Page 23 of Cruel Ice

Parker’s teeth snapped together. He took a hard step toward Declan.

Declan didn’t back up. He never retreated from anyone. Hadn’t, not since he was sixteen years old. The year he’d learned to stand his ground.

And the year he’d learned how to kill.

Ah, was it any wonder the detective thought Declan had dangerous intentions toward both Marley and the people who’d made the mistake of taking him? The man was not wrong.

“Is there a problem, detective?” Declan asked, voice silky.

“You aren’t her damn fiancé.”

“No. I’m not. But I am her new client.” They’d even shaken hands on the deal. Not quite a signed contract situation, but he’d be taking care of that technicality immediately.

“Because you’re her client, you think that means you’re going to fuck her?”

Oh, there it was. Jealousy. Right out in the open. The detective had a very conflicted relationship with Marley, that was clear to see. “I think what we do together—or how often we fuck,” a deliberate provocation, “is none of your concern.”

Parker’s eyes were chips of fury. “Word of warning about Marley.”

As if he needed a warning where she was concerned.

“I’ve known her for a long time.”

“Have you.” Not a question. Declan would be investigating the detective—and Marley—and soon he’d know them better than they knew themselves.

“She has this tendency to think that she can fix the world.”

That seemed right. He’d already noticed that do-gooder trait in her.

“She’s drawn to broken things.” Again, Parker’s gaze dipped to the scar on Declan’s cheek.

Oh, you bastard. You think I’m broken, do you? You have no idea.“Good to know.” He smiled. Declan knew the smile would stretch his scar in a most terrifying way.

Parker jerked his stare back to Declan’s eyes. “Those broken things she wants to fix so badly? They breakher.”

Tension knifed straight through Declan’s gut. “She doesn’t seem broken to me.”

And he heard the creak of a door opening behind him.

“Appearances can be deceiving. If you don’t believe me, ask Marley why she isn’t working on that Ph.D. of hers any longer.” Parker took a step back, finally. “She shattered inside a while back, and she’s still weak now. You can’t count on her for this case. I told Marley that she should have just stuck with the pastry chef job. It was safe and easy. She’s not made for darkness.” His head snaked to the side, and his gaze cut over Declan’s shoulder. Declan knew the detective had Marley in his sights. “You’re not made for this kind of work, Marley. Didn’t you learn your lesson before?”

Declan heard her sharp inhale.

“Leave it to the professionals,” Parker advised her. “And both of you—don’t withhold evidence from me. Put all the cards on the table. I can’t help you if you’re not shooting straight with me.”

Declan could feel Marley closing in, but she didn’t speak. The scent of jasmine and amber teased him.

“You aren’t Ophelia,” Parker added darkly. “She might enjoy fucking killers, but that doesn’t mean you have to do the same.”

Well, someone had just crossed the line. With his words, and he’d literally crossed back into the hallway enough so that Declan could now?—

Slam the door in the detective’s face.

And he did. With a smile still curving his lips, Declan shut the door right on the annoying detective. He flipped the lock, pulled in a breath, and slowly turned toward Marley. “Did you have a nice rest?”

She blinked at him. Then looked at the door. “You slammed the door on a cop.”

“He was boring me.” And annoying the hell out of him. Declan took a step toward her. There were still shadows under her eyes. She’d clearly needed a longer nap. “He woke you up.”Asshole.

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