Best of all, badass Rowdy Yates stayed around to run the place himself. That was incentive enough to turn the staunchest teetotaler into a booze hound.

Though Rowdy and his bartender, Avery, had married over Christmas, he was still a sinfully gorgeous hunk surrounded by an aura of danger and sensual menace, more than worth a fantasy or two.

“Admit it,” Dash murmured, watching her with probing intent. “Admit that you missed me.”

She reluctantly gave her attention back to Dash—and wanted to groan. A lonely streetlamp gave faint illumination to his features, but she knew every nuance of his gorgeous face. No, he didn’t have Rowdy’s bad-boy rep, but his razor-sharp sensuality and construction-worker physique churned up a different type of fantasy.

Too bad she knew they’d never suit.

“Maybe,” she agreed. “Just a little.”

“I’m wounded—especially considering I wasn’t your first pick.”

No, he wasn’t. She’d initially wanted Rowdy to play her counterpart in the role of bar trollop, but Avery Mullins, now Yates, had already staked a rock-solid claim. Not a big deal because she knew she never would have gotten involved with Rowdy anyway, not beyond a one-night stand.

“As I recall, you offered.”

“More like insisted.”

She inclined her head in agreement. As second choice, she’d accepted Dash’s help with her cover, help she needed to give her a reason to hang around the bar without getting hit on by every lonely sap alive. She wanted to look the part of helpless, vulnerable, female boozer, but she didn’t want to appear too pathetic.

The first woman who’d escaped had initially been at the bar with a boyfriend. They’d parted ways at the door, and she’d gotten snatched right off the street.

So Margo set herself up as easy prey by following the same scenario—with Dash.

“I’d love to know what you’re thinking.” Dash looked her over in a way that felt far too physical.

That I missed you so much, too. Blocking that response, she asked, “What are we doing here, Dash? It’s getting late and I’ve had a full day.”

His gaze narrowed, proving she’d hit a nerve. “If you wanted to start back at the bar scene, you should have given me a call.”

“I’m a big girl. I can handle it alone.”

His gaze moved over her face. “Do Logan and Reese know what you’re doing?”

Oh, now that just pissed her off. She settled into the corner of the seat, getting comfortable for this long-overdue confrontation. She would have preferred somewhere less...confined, maybe a location where his presence didn’t fill every inch of her space, where she didn’t breathe in his scent, where his tall, ripped body wasn’t so temptingly close.

But all she had was the here and now, so she’d make her point and then send him on his way. “You’re confusing yourself, Dash. My detectives answer to me, not the other way around.”

He disregarded her commanding tone and clear umbrage to say, “So they don’t know?”

“I don’t answer to anyone, especially not you.”

As if finally realizing her mood, he raised his brows. “You know it’s dangerous.”

“I can handle danger.” Hadn’t she spent too many nights being dangerously attracted to him?

“What if your ploy works and someone grabs you?”

“That’s the plan.” And yes, it was dangerous. Deep down, she knew it wasn’t right. But deep down, she had so damn many issues....

“You need backup.” Before she could say anything, Dash whispered, “Let me be your backup.”

“You and I have different objectives.”

“I want to sleep with you,” he admitted without reserve. “You want to catch some creeps—so sure, our main objectives are miles apart.”

Plainspoken Dash. Margo shook her head, denying what he wanted and how his brazen words affected her.

“But,” Dash said with emphasis, “the two aren’t mutually exclusive. I’d like to see the creeps caught, same as you.”

He’d like to see them caught. No sign of outrage or disgust at what happened, at what the men did—or what the women suffered.

Margo blew out a breath. If she involved Rowdy Yates, he would go after the bastards with single-minded intent.

Dash’s brother, Detective Logan Riske, one of the most honest, honorable, driven men she knew, always attacked injustice. He was seriousness personified.

Funny how the two brothers were so dissimilar in personality.

Logan saw her as a sexless superior, not a woman.

But Dash had been making his interest known almost from the moment they’d met. Unlike Logan, he played at life and enjoyed every moment.

In many ways, Margo was just like the rest of her family. Being a cop was in her blood.

But other things...other genetic ties...

“I’m pretty sure,” Dash went on, interrupting her disturbing thoughts, “that you want to sleep with me, too.”

A denial would be pointless. Dash knew women. Instead, she gave him the truth. “It won’t happen.”

“Because?”

“For one thing, I’m the lieutenant at a station previously plagued by corruption. I spent a lot of time and made a lot of enemies clearing out the trash.” More than one bad cop had lost his job. Other, less conscientious cops resented her for turning out their friends.

Logan and Reese were two of only a handful of good cops who had backed her 100 percent.

With anything work-related, she trusted them both. Away from the station...she preferred they stay out of her business.

Sleeping with the brother of a lead detective would definitely blur the lines.

“It’s important that I keep my personal life completely separate from work.” Few would understand her personal life, and too many others would use it against her.

“You think I’d gossip with Logan?”

“Probably Reese, too.” Logan and Detective Reese had been buddies forever; Logan and Dash were as close as two brothers could be. They all hung out together.

That made the circle far too close for her peace of mind.

“Seriously?” Dash angled his broad shoulders into the corner of the car to better face her. “You think guys sit around and share conquests?”

“Conquests?” Margo smirked. “Is that what you call it?”

“I might if I was the pathetic type to brag about how and when and with whom I had sex.” Getting comfortable, he unzipped his coat, showing a black thermal crew-neck shirt beneath. “But here’s a news flash for you—I don’t screw and tell. At least, not since I was seventeen. And trust me, even if I was the type—and again, I’m not—do you really think Logan or Reese wants to hear about us doing the nasty?”

Curiosity finally got her attention off his throat and up to his dark brown eyes. She tipped her head. “Would it be nasty?”

Dash watched her for several seconds before replying. “Entirely up to you.” His voice went deep and dark. “It can go any way you want—as long as it goes.”

She imagined sex with Dash would be...fine. Satisfying, sure. The man exuded testosterone and confidence. But it’d be the same old run-of-the-mill bang-for-fun encounter. He’d be polite, a gentleman. Considerate. It’d take the edge off, but there’d be no real depth. No risk.

No danger.

Unfortunately, that just didn’t do it for her.

Not that she’d ever tell Dash what did do it for her. That, by necessity, she reserved for fleeting adventures with strangers. Men she could control.

Men she would never see twice.

She did not share with guys closely related to her detectives.

“You know,” Dash said, “Logan prefers to think you’re made of stone. Reese, too. Must be a cop thing, right? To them, you’re a peer, not a supersexy woman.”

She and Logan had always shared mutual respect. Reese...that had taken a while but they were on good terms now. Both Logan and Reese were incredible detectives and she was lucky to have them.

But they weren’t peers. “I’m their superior.”

Dash grinned. “Maybe that attitude of yours helped to form their perspectives.”

Even now he couldn’t be serious. “Maybe.” Other than how it pertained to being a cop, she knew little enough about how men thought. What she did know she didn’t particularly like.

“I’m not the only one who sees it.”

She cocked a brow. “Excuse me?”

“You being sexy.” He watched her far too closely, maybe judging her response. “Rowdy sees it, too.”

A little thrill of excitement uncurled inside her, but she hid it. “Rowdy married his bartender.”

“Doesn’t make a man blind now, does it?”

No, but maybe it should. She detested men who cheated almost as much as the guys who were physically abusive.

“You know, honey, Rowdy has a distinct dislike of cops. You and he never would have happened.”

Dear God, had he read her thoughts? Did he know she’d once set her sights on Rowdy?

Did anyone else know?

She tried to put on her poker face, but he’d caught her off guard. Instead, she just spelled out the truth to him. “Rowdy has a certain appeal, but even if he’d been interested, I never would have gone down that road.”

“Ah,” Dash said, a little mocking. “Still too close to home, huh? I mean, his sister is married to Logan and you’re all uptight about that possible gossip—”

Margo lost her temper. “Is there a point to this chat? Because if so, I wish you’d get to it.”

“All right.” Taking liberties, Dash adjusted the climate controls, turning down the heat now that the car had warmed. “I want your answer.”

“About?” She glanced at the illuminated clock. If she didn’t get home soon she may as well plan on staying up. Her shift would start in less than five hours.