Page 19 of Locked In Ice

“Um.That’s not a question.To be a question, you’d need to change it up so that it was something like, ‘Did you train at—’”

“Why did you leave the FBI?”

Pain flashed.A brilliant, glittering crack in the beauty of her face.There one moment, and gone the next.She sucked in a breath and let it go, and he wondered if she was going to refuse to answer.But her chin lifted.“I could say it’s because I didn’t like all the red tape.The rules.The regulations or even the constant travel.I could say it’s because I wanted to be my own boss.Choose my own cases.”A swipe of her tongue over her lower lip.“But I think it’s best if I don’t lie to you and you don’t lie to me.Helps with the trust situation, you know?”

A lock of hair had fallen across her cheek.He caught that lock and tucked it behind her ear.His hand lingered, for a moment.

“There’s that,” she muttered as a little shiver skated over her body.“Have to deal with that sooner or later.But probably not the best plan to tackle it when we’re running on fumes.”

His gaze sharpened on her.

“So, back to your question.Why did I leave the FBI?I lost someone important to me.”A nod.“Sudden death.Violent.It ripped my world apart, and I couldn’t be the same person any longer.I couldn’t wear the badge, so I became someone new.”Her lips tipped down.“I think you know all about becoming someone new, don’t you?”

He started to respond—

Her hand flew out and pressed to his chest.Right over his heart.“Don’t answer that.One question for me.One for you.We agreed to that.Answer my original question.What did you say that got Thomas to start confessing?”

Her hand seemed to burn through his shirt.Brand his skin.She did feel the attraction between them.Not a normal arousal.A dangerous, blistering intensity.A match that had been lit, one that might blaze into an inferno under the right—or wrong—circumstances.

“I told him that I had already broken out of one prison.I could easily breakintoanother one.He would never be safe from me unless he confessed.I would find him, and what he’d done to his victims would pale in comparison to what I’d do to him.”

He waited for her to flinch.To back away and say that he’d gone too far.That he’d crossed lines.That he was dangerous.A freak.

Wasn’t that how he felt?

But she nodded.“Good bluff.”

It had been no bluff.

“You scared the monster.Takes a lot to do that.”

It had just taken the truth.

Her gaze darted down to her hand.She didn’t immediately stop touching him.He wondered if she could feel his heartbeat because as she kept touching him, the beat seemed to get stronger.Harder.Almost like his heart was beating faster just for her.

Her hand slowly returned to her side.“Good night, Lane.”

He should move away.“Good night, Ophelia.”Her name was beautiful.Haunting.A million years ago, in a different life, he’d studied a bit of Shakespeare.Back when he’d been in college and had thought maybe his life could be different.

Once upon a time, I even thought I could be a doctor.Save lives.

But…

Maybe he’d been meant to take them instead.“She went mad.”

Ophelia backed up a step.“Excuse me?”

“Your namesake?InHamlet,Ophelia went mad.”

Soft laughter trickled from her.Musical.Sensual.“Don’t worry about my madness.”

And he could have sworn that—hanging between them—were the words…Worry about your own.He retreated a step.We both just backed away from each other.

But she didn’t close the door, not yet.“‘God has given you one face, and you make yourself another,’” she said.

“You just quoted Hamlet.”

Another soft laugh.One that seemed to dip beneath his skin.“With my name, how could I not read it?But I believe the quote applies, don’t you?”

---