Page 82 of Locked In Ice

“Quite the opposite.”A mocking laugh.“They wanted meoutof their homes.”

Damn them.“You can stay in my home anytime.Always.”Crap.She should backtrack with that.But…Too late.

He smiled at her.“I’m already in your home, Ophelia.”

Yes, he was.

“I’ve also been inyou,” he pointed out in a wickedly sensual tone.

Immediately her gaze whipped around.What if someone had heard those words?

“And I can’t wait to be again.At the earliest opportunity.”

The party was almost over.They’d gotten through the night without any incidents.Just a little longer, and the engaged couple would be leaving.Isabelle had given Ophelia a complete timeline earlier so she could better keep watch.About thirty more minutes, and Ophelia could depart with Lane.Then about thirty more minutes for the drive and then they’d be home.Hello, earliest opportunity.Until then, she had a job to keep doing.

“You tried to save Samuel after you shot him.Why?”

He’d certainly jumped right back to that topic.“Lesson three,” she reminded him.

“Dead men can’t give families closure.”

Warmth slid through her.It was really rather adorable to her the way he remembered her lessons.“But it was more than that,” she confessed because there was no need to hold back.Not with him.“I had never killed anyone before.”She hoped to never kill again.“And even though I knew what he was, even though I knew he came there to kill me, I still kept seeing him as the guy who was training me.The guy who brought in coffee and doughnuts and laughed when he talked about his niece and nephew.”That was the thing… “Even killers have families.They have lives.They don’t just exist in some evil void.”Her stare returned to him.“They have people who love them.”Her hands gripped his shoulders, and her fingers pressed into the fabric of his tux.“I’d had dinner with Sam’s wife the week before Sam tried to kill me.”The woman had… “She came to my office at the FBI after his funeral,” Ophelia whispered.“She was crying and, ah, she’d been told the truth.But she didn’t believe it.And she was so angry.She slapped me, and I just—I told her I was sorry.Because I was sorry that she was in so much pain.”

“Ophelia…”

She shook her head.Went back to scanning the crowd.“I need to go and check in with Isabelle.”She stopped dancing.“Could you do another sweep through the kitchen area?All of the catering staff members were vetted, and I know it seems like overkill to keep checking back there, but I’d feel better if you did one final search in that room.”

“On it.”

She sent him a grateful smile and slipped from his arms.It was easy to navigate through the crowd and get to Isabelle’s side.The woman was absolutely glowing.Ophelia hurried closer.

Her phone vibrated.An elegant, evening clutch dangled from her left hand.The delicate chain looped around her wrist, so her hand had been free.The phone vibrated again, and Ophelia plucked out her phone from the clutch.She frowned at the screen.She’d set the device to vibrate instead of ring, and the call was from a number she’d programmed in just days before.

Detective Shay O’Brien.

She took the call.“Hello?”Ophelia put a hand to her other ear so she could hear the detective.

“He’s missing.”

The band started playing a louder, faster tune.

“I can’t quite hear you,” Ophelia told her.“Say it again?”

“He is missing.Thought you needed to know.”

“Who’s missing?”

“Royce Nicholson.”

***

Lane had nearly reached the kitchen doors when his phone pulsed in his tux pocket.Pausing for just a moment, he fished out the phone and swiped his finger over the screen.A text had just come through for him.

You’re like me.

He didn’t recognize the number.Had no freaking idea what the text sender meant, and he was—

Don’t tell Ophelia.A second text.

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