Some things were inevitable. She faced her greatest hope and her possible downfall. She knew herself. For Shane and Shane only, she’d jump. Such a terrible risk to take, and the only one with a reward that would be worth it. She’d never stood a chance against him. “Okay. Take it all.” He would anyway. He’d always held her heart. Why pretend otherwise?

Triumph lifted his chin. His lips met hers in a kiss so full of emotion, tears sprang to her eyes. Slowly, so slowly, he entered her, his body fusing with hers. Taking hers. Protecting hers.

She fastened her thighs against his hips, her hands digging into his arms. He started to plunge faster, thrusting with perfect control. Not a chance, buddy. She grabbed his butt, yanking toward her while rearing up and nipping his chest. Leaving her mark.

He paused, mid-thrust.

Her teeth released, and her head hit the pillow.

A vein pulsed in his neck. Crimson spread across his high cheekbones. Those dangerous eyes darkened to midnight as they pierced her. His biceps undulated like the muscles of a stallion wanting to run, and his cock swelled inside her.

Her breath caught. She’d never seen him so on edge. Then, knowing full well what she was doing, she allowed a challenging smile to curve her lips.

His control snapped.

Hard fingers dug into her hip as he thrust hard and to the hilt. Fire lanced inside her, sparking each nerve. She cried out, arching into him, her eyes widening on his.

His nostrils flared. His breath panted out. He slid out and slammed back in, his eyes glittering, his hand in her hair. Keeping her in place. The headboard smashed against the wall.

Hard and fast he thrust, taking them both higher and hotter than ever he’d permitted himself to go with her, taking him beyond his keen rein. An unbelievable ball of heat uncoiled fiercely within her. This was more than sex—more than man and woman. He was all male, taking a female. Her heart hammered with the knowledge, and she clasped her ankles at his back.

Close, she was so close. Her eyes shut. Electricity zapped through her. With a sharp cry, she broke, ripping through the waves.

He pounded harder, faster, finally grinding against her and murmuring her name in that deep Southern drawl as he came.

She relaxed back into the bed, her mind spinning. He’d lost control. The darkness hid her trembling lips. Maybe things could be different this time. Though, as her heartbeat slowed and reality returned, she had to wonder. Was that a good thing?

Chapter 14

If her personal life wasn’t a big enough mess, her professional life was blown to bits the next morning. A tornado had ripped through her office. Josie sucked in air, her head pounding. “How did this happen?” Shredded papers covered the floor. File folders had been torn, spreadsheets ripped in two. Cabinets teetered empty and overturned. Anything breakable… broken. She bent down to finger the shards of a ceramic vase she’d made during one outing with Vicki. Of course, Vicki had gone to the art studio to flirt with the owner, but Josie had enjoyed creating the vase and then painting the dramatic colors all over the sides.

She avoided the desk. What she’d let Shane do to her on that desk—

“I don’t know. The police were here for hours earlier to process everything and look for prints.” Shelia bent to pick up a pile of papers. “They said we can clean up now.”

Josie glanced behind Vicki. The rest of the tenth floor didn’t look any better. Whoever had torn through the CPA firm’s space had done so with a vengeance. “Thanks for calling me.” She’d been at Trenton Industries going through their files all morning.

Johnston stalked down the hall, his normally pleasant face set in hard lines. “Anything missing?”

Josie shrugged. “No clue yet.”

He shook his head, a muscle ticking in his massive jaw. “We have financial records for some of the largest corporations in the country. If any of that information went public—”

“But those are locked away, aren’t they?” Josie frowned. This appeared to be vandalism.

Her boss breathed out. “They got into everything. The vault, the computers… they even took three laptops.” He tilted his head at someone behind her. “Detective.”

Oh, come on. It couldn’t be. Josie pivoted, plastering a smile on her face. “Detective Malloy. How nice to see you.”

The detective raised a bushy eyebrow. “Mrs. Dean.” He gestured toward the small conference room. “You’re the only one I haven’t spoken with yet. Shall we?”

Josie straightened her peach-colored silk suit and followed Malloy into the room. Thank goodness her husband was a master at breaking and entering. He’d retrieved more clothes for her earlier that morning from her home. Maybe it was time to go back home.

Malloy shut the door, waiting until Josie settled into a plush leather chair before he did the same. “Do you know if anything is missing yet?” He flipped open his tattered notebook on the gleaming dark mahogany table.

“No.” Josie studied the cop. He had to be, what? Mid-forties? Today he’d worn another wrinkled brown suit, his tie a striped pink. “I like your tie.”

He glanced up, a faint tinge of color sliding across his pale skin. “Thanks. It was a gift.” Dark circles bagged under his eyes, and Josie fought guilt. The guy was sleep-deprived from chasing Shane. He wouldn’t find Shane.

“Well, the colors are very nice.” She clasped her hands on the table. “So, um, you investigate every crime that comes up?”

“Nope. Just anything related to you right now.” Malloy’s smile lacked charm.

Well, wasn’t that just terrific? “This has nothing to do with Shane.”

“We’ll see about that, won’t we?” Malloy tapped his pen against the notebook.

Yeah, they would see about that. Josie crossed her legs. “My boss said the computers had been hacked and the vault broken open.”

“Yep. Whoever did this was looking for something.” Intelligent brown eyes focused on her face. “Any idea what?”

“No.” Josie shrugged. “We have varied financial information for banks, corporations, nonprofits… you name it. I guess they might’ve been looking for that.”

“I think this has something to do with your husband.”

A chill swept through her. “I don’t see what.” She spoke the truth. The timing sucked, but Shane had nothing to do with her business. Never had.

“I’d like to verify that myself.”

She widened her eyes, going for innocent. Probably looked like a clown. “Shane’s gone, Detective. I assume he went back to his military buddies.” The clock on the credenza ticked a quiet countdown until angry clients showed up demanding answers. She hoped this had nothing to do with Shane. Or with her. “If I could help you, I would. Besides, he didn’t kidnap me. He hasn’t broken any laws.” The smile she flashed trembled on her lips.

“So Major Dean signed the divorce papers?”

Thunder rolled outside. Josie took a deep breath. “No. He didn’t sign. I’ll have to go forward on my own.” But would she? What if they stood a chance this time? Concern had her biting her lip. What if she was making a huge mistake? Her stomach tightened. What if the whole mess did have something to do with Shane? She swallowed several times.

“I see.” The detective pushed back from the thick table and stood. “I’d appreciate it if you contact me once you discover if any files are missing.” Three long strides had his bulky body at the door. “Or if you hear from your husband, of course.”

“Of course.” Josie stood on shaking legs, smoothing her face into a pleasant expression. The ability to do so had helped her navigate the foster care system without many problems. Her mind reeled, searching for answers. This had to be random. But it was an odd coincidence that Shane was in town and things had started to go south.

She’d taken only one step into the hall when Mr. Johnston hailed her. “Josie, Dr. Phillips from Fuller Labs and his colleague are in the large conference room waiting for you.”

Josie nodded, swiveling around and hustling toward the west wall. She entered the conference room, smiling and extending a hand to the fifty-something scientist. He took her hand in a strong grip, his faded green eyes twinkling. “So. You need a new housekeeper.”

Josie laughed, moving to sit at the head of the marble table, her gaze on the woman sitting quietly next to Dr. Phillips. “Hi, I’m Josie Dean.”

“Dr. Madison.” Low and cultured, the tone spoke of Ivy League degrees. She could be anywhere from forty to fifty with flawless porcelain skin, dark hair, and eyes the deepest of blue. Intelligent eyes took Josie’s every measure. “I’m in town from our DC branch.”

Dr. Phillips dropped into a chair with a groan.

Josie smoothed her hair back. “I’m afraid someone ransacked our offices looking for some type of financial information on our clients.”

Dr. Madison sniffed. “That’s what we understand. As you can imagine, we’re quite concerned about client confidentiality.”

“Yes.” Josie calculated the materials in her files. The lab worked in everything from reproductive technology to cellular research for genetic diseases. “But all of my information is financial. We have no access to patient names, medical data, or anything protected by the new privacy laws. Just your grant applications, payments, and bottom line.”

“So even if there were payments from patients, those payments would be listed anonymously?” Dr. Madison wrinkled her brow, her chin lifting, her tone cultured and condescending.

Josie stamped down irritation. “Yes. Your organization assigns a number to a patient, and we just get that number in our files.” The doctor appeared unfamiliar with the process. “If you don’t mind my asking, what field do you work in with Fuller Labs?”