Page 11 of Brutal Ice

One of her hands curled around his upper arm. The other gripped his hand. “It’s you.”

“My name’s Royal. Royal Boudreaux. But then, I think you heard that handsy prick when he introduced me.”

Her breath came faster and faster.

His left hand slid down to curl around her waist. “Pull in a deeper breath. Nice and slow.” He inhaled. “What is that scent?”

“L-lilacs.”

“Violet smells like lilacs.” Soft laughter escaped from him.

She stopped. Tried to pull away. To retreat. He just spun her back into his arms. And held her ever closer. “Easy,” he whispered against her ear. “So many people are watching us. I think you are supposed to look as if you’re fascinated by me. Not as if you’re afraid.” He didn’t want her fear.

Violet shivered against him.

“I am not here to hurt you.”

Her head turned. She peered up at him with truly the deepest, most golden eyes he’d ever seen. “Then why are you here?”

So many eyes were on them. Too many. I only care about her eyes. “The cops think the perp was a crazed fan.”

“I-I’d done a national tour of Swan Lake before coming here. So many cities. The detectives think he followed me.”

“The detectives are dead wrong. The man who took you isn’t some obsessed fan. He’s a fucking serial killer.”

This time when she stumbled, he kept a steady grip on her. Carefully, he steered her toward the doors that led out onto the balcony.

“How do you know that?” she asked.

“Because I know all about the monsters who hide in the dark.”

The band kept playing.

“You didn’t tell the cops about me,” Royal noted.

Her gaze slid over his face. As if memorizing every feature.

“Did you even recognize me,” Royal pushed, truly curious, “until I spoke?”

“I hear your voice in my dreams.”

“Nightmares.” He nodded.

“Dreams,” she corrected flatly. “I know the difference between a nightmare and a dream. In my dream, I’m safe and I’m with you.”

“You’ll always be safe with me.” Now why in the sweet hell had he just said those words to her?

She licked her lips again. Damn. She really needed to stop tempting him. “Why didn’t you want the cops to know about what you’d done?” Violet asked. “You saved me.”

He smiled at her. “You shouldn’t ask questions that you don’t want answered.”

“I really, really want that answer.”

He supposed she did. Didn’t mean he was going to give it to her, though. “You moved out of your brother’s house. You went back to your place.” A move she’d made earlier that day.

Her eyes widened. “How did you know that?”

They were almost at the balcony doors. And the song was nearly at an end.

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