Page 2 of Sexy Killer

He offers me a timid smile with a slight stroke to the side of my face. "You're always the most beautiful woman, Chelsea."

I wince in pain as I lean into his touch. "Shit. It feels like I've been kicked by a horse."

"That's what happens when you botch a robbery. You get kicked and left holding the bag." His words are short as whatever sparked between us seconds ago fades, and he shifts into police officer mode.

That grabs my attention just enough to realize that my ankle is cuffed to the rail of the hospital bed. Machines beep endlessly around the off-white room, with a nurse standing by the door with her arms folded across a clipboard. Her eyes focus on Victor, but there's something hard in her gaze.

"I don't know what you're talking about, Victor. What the fuck is this? Why am I cuffed? Where's Dad?" I fire off one question after another while trying to kick the cuff off my ankle.

"Nigel Emerson is unconscious in a fucking coma. He's stable but in Intensive Care two floors up."

"Why does it sound like you think I have something to do with this? Do you actually think I'd get me and my father mixed up in a robbery of my father's own jewelry shop? That's stupid, even for you, Victor."

He shrugs. "Evidence puts you at the scene with the merchandise."

"Of course I was at the scene. Isn't that where you found me?" I roll my eyes, jerking my ankle to see how secure the handcuff is to my ankle. I'm sure I can pick the lock in a few minutes if an officer of the law wasn't standing beside me. "Victor, am I under arrest or not?"

"I just want to ask you a few questions and don't want you walking away, you know? Like the last time we spoke."

"Fuck you."

2

VICTOR

Chelsea Emerson is even more beautiful than the last day I saw her. Memories of my fingers sliding through her soft red hair come back to me like a freight train. Her gorgeous hazel eyes have a way of melting the icy wall I've built around my heart to keep people like her out. Still, I have a job to do.

Even in a hospital gown, she makes my heart beat faster. She's not too beat up, but I know Chelsea's always been able to handle herself. It's one of the things I like most about her. She never goes down without a fight.

"Still tough as nails, Chelsea. You got hit pretty good tonight. Why don't you tell me what happened? Who were your partners on this?" I ask her. I don't want to think about her falling into our old habits. Given the way police officers found her at the scene, I want to get my hands on the bastards who robbed the place but not to put them in handcuffs.

Chelsea flips her hair to the side. "Why do you think I have anything to do with this? My fucking father is in a coma, Victor."

"I actually don't think you do, but I had to see it in your eyes when I pinned it to you."

"Fuck you, Victor." Chelsea chuckles as she glances at me, a glimmer of desire.

"I'd love to if you're up to it. I can't say I haven't missed … us." My admission draws a timid but fleeting smile from her.

She jiggles her ankle against the handcuff, securing her to the hospital bed rail. "I'd agree with you, Victor, but this isn't much of a welcome home. I mean, the handcuffs are familiar to us, but it's been a while since we've been familiar."

Three years is a long time, but not long enough to remember how my body reacts to her every time she's near. A breath pushes through my nostrils as I take a step toward the edge of her bed to unlock her. The pain splinters across her face as she reaches down to rub her ankle.

I can't stop my hand from covering hers to rub where redness blooms around her ankle. The way she moans under my touch melts that wall ice slightly until she stops my hand. My eyes reach up to meet hers as she draws the other leg up toward her chest. The way she rests her chin on her knee, letting her waves of hair cascade to the side, draws me in.

"Chelsea, I did it for your own protection in case one of those goons decided to come check on you to see if you were cooperating."

"I'll cooperate, Vic. I will always help you if I can. When I became a security consultant, your family helped me. I'm going to help you get these guys, but I need a favor." Her voice is soft, even though I know her intentions are lethal.

There's a reason Chelsea and I clicked a few years ago, but life took us in different directions.

"What kind of favor?" I ask.

Chelsea rattles off precisely what she wants. "I want you to get me out of this hospital. Next, leave me in the car while you go into your precinct to grab whatever footage you siphoned off my father's cameras and anything else that will help me figure out who did this. And then? If I … I mean, if we like what we see, you can take me to dinner."

"Same old Chelsea, I see. Always trying to tell me what to do and how to do it. Don't you know it's the other way around, love?"

She giggles and reaches up to stroke the side of my face. "There's only one place I letyoutell me what to do, Victor. We'll need way more than dinner to take that ride down memory lane."

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