Page 50 of Locked In Ice

Come to me, Ophelia.He’d been in that bed, and his mind hadn’t been plagued by the usual torments.The nightmares that wouldn’t stop.Memories of his mother.His father.Their brutal end.

The nights locked away in a stinking cell.The attacks that kept coming.

For once—finally—his mind had been on something that wasn’t about pain.Not his own version of hell.Instead, he’d had a slice of heaven filling his head.

Ophelia.

He’d thought of her.Thought of going down the stairs.Finding her.Taking her into his arms and takingher.Driving straight into oblivion with her until there was nothing left for either of them.

“The Feds covered everything up.No one—no one outside of the agency knew about the murders Sam committed.All the lives he’d claimed.I gave them the evidence I had, but they said there wasn’t conclusive proof.The story that circulated was that he had an obsession with me.He broke into my home.Tried to attack me.I just defended myself and shot him before he could kill me.”

He climbed from the bed.Suddenly, he couldn’t wait for her to come to him.Lane crossed the room and went to her.He stood over her.He reached out and flipped the light switch on the wall.

Illumination flooded the guest room.

Ophelia wore black cotton shorts.A black t-shirt.Her hair tumbled around her shoulders, and her eyes seemed so big.So deep.

So sad.

“I left the Bureau.I couldn’t trust the people around me.”She looked down at her hands.“I couldn’t trust myself.”

“Youstoppedhim.”How the hell could she not trust herself?

She bit her lower lip.

Hard.

Too hard.

His hand rose and his fingers stroked along her lower lip.“Don’t, baby.”

She stiffened.

Shit.Shouldn’t have used an endearment.It had just slid out.A slip of the tongue.

His hand fell away.

“I stopped him, but I didn’t see what he was.Not until too late.”

His heartbeat seemed way too fast.“You worried you’re gonna do the same thing with me?Not see me for what I am until it’s too late?”

She shook her head.“I know exactly what you are.”

Was that good?Or bad?

“But you don’t know what I am,” Ophelia added quietly.

Bullshit.“I have a pretty good idea.”

Her brows lifted.“Really.”Not a question.

But he nodded.

“Then do share,” she invited.

She still wasn’t in his bedroom.Her gaze had dropped to his chest.Skated over him like a touch.What would it take to get her to cross the threshold and come to him?

“I’m waiting,” Ophelia told him.Tension whispered beneath her words.

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