Page 4 of Fire Dancer

The tragic thing was, Ingo used to laugh, dance, and joke around like any other person. Now, he wore the weary look ofa World War II hero — a guy who’d just crawled over a beach, scaled a cliff, and seized an impenetrable fortification, all under intense enemy fire. A guy who no longer had time for fun, games, or laughter. Not enough time for me either, because there was always one more foe to vanquish, one more battle, one more front in the never-ending war of good versus evil.

“Stacy, huh? Last name?”

I shrugged. “I don’t know.”

He tapped the window, still fixated on Stacy. “I need to know what she came for.Whoshe came for — the company’s name and address.”

I crossed my arms. “Get me a warrant, and I’ll give you the address.”

He stuck his hand in his back pocket, wiggling his wallet free.

I anchored my hands in my own pockets, ordering myself not to help him with that, no matter how tempting the prospect.

With a look of triumph, he flashed his ID.

I leaned in to scrutinize it. “Department of Agriculture?”

He snapped it shut. “That’s my cover story.”

“Still doesn’t make it a warrant.”

His black-on-black eyes flashed twin bolts of lightning. “It’s important, Pippa.”

I snorted. “My dad does that too.”

Ingo frowned. “Does what?”

“Using my name when he really, really wants something.”

And, oops. Somehow, my voice had gone all sultry and suggestive. So I had only myself to blame that Ingo’s gaze raked over my body.

I crossed my arms before my nipples peaked, but I couldn’t stop heat from coloring my cheeks.

Not what I meant,I wanted to growl, though it was only half true.

Ingo jerked his eyes back to chin level. “Like I said, it’s important.”

“So is business, and I don’t need you to jeopardize our relationship with an important client.”

A good thing pride held me back from detailing how I wished for another kind of relationship — or how badly we needed the business. Not just Sedona Glass, but me personally, along with my family.

He leaned closer and, dang. There it was, that heady scent of wild rivers and thick forests, underpinned by a teensy-tiny whiff of canine.

“She could be in danger,” he rumbled.

I worked in a glass shop — a warm, cheery place full of possibilities. Ingo worked in a top-secret branch of law enforcement. His world was one of danger and intrigue.

“She is in trouble if she’s got a wolf shifter prowling around after her,” I pointed out.

His eyes flashed, and he glanced around the shop. The empty shop, because I wasn’t dumb enough to reveal his big secret in public.

Make that, one of his secrets.

“Dammit, Pippa…” He clenched his fists.

I clenched mine back. “Yes?”

He stepped closer, telegraphing something like,This is important.

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