Page 3 of Marked for Danger

Though part of her—abigpart—wanted nothing more than to stay in Grady’s bed forever, Izzy knew it was an impossible dream. She also recognized the signs that it was time to move on.

You’ve already stayed too long, Iz. It’s time to go.

An invisible fist squeezed her heart, a sudden stinging forming in the corners of her eyes. Because that voice in her head wasn’t merely referring to the past few hours.

Normally ending things was a non-issue since she made it very clear from the beginning with any man she becomes intimately involved with. And it wasn’t like she hopped from bed to bed. Quite the opposite, actually.

Izzy was very,veryparticular about who she chose as a sexual partner. In fact, at the ripe old age of thirty-two, she still only needed one hand to count the number of men she’d slept with. And when those no-strings relationships had ended, both participants walked away without a single drop of animosity or remorse.

But something about this time, thisman, was different.

The slight sound of sheets rustling pulled Izzy from her thoughts, her focus returning to the bed in time to see a still-sleeping Grady roll from his back to his side. Her stomach clenched as an unfamiliar feeling began to settle deep inside, and it took her a few seconds to realize what it was.

Regret.

For the first time in her life, Izzy regretted the casual relationship she was about to sever. Not because she was worried about upsetting Grady. The whole no-strings arrangement had been his idea from the start.

No, the regret she felt was purely selfish. These last few months with the mouthwatering detective had been fun. Exciting, even. And the sex…

He makes me feel things I’ve never felt before.

It was another reason to get out now, before someone got hurt. And Izzy had a feeling if she continued seeing Grady outside the occasional, professional interaction at work,shewould be the one left bearing the scars.

She turned away, slipping her purse’s thin leather strap over one shoulder. With her keys and a pair of shiny red heels dangling from one hand, Izzy used the small notepad and pen Grady kept by his landline phone to scribble one final note…

Early day in court. Thanks for last night!

~Izzy

That was it. No “see you at work” or “call me”. Definitely no, “I’ll call you.” Because she wouldn’t be calling him. Not unless it was work related.

Not anymore.

Izzy drew in a stuttered breath as she placed the pen neatly beside the impersonal note. With a sigh, she allowed herself a final glimpse of what she wished could continue but knew had to end.

Committing the image of Grady’s peaceful, sexy, sleeping form to memory before carefully unlocking and opening his door…shutting it silently behind her.

Though the decision to do so was a necessary evil—just as it had the other times she’d ended things with the other men from her past—Izzy couldn’t help but acknowledge this time felt different.

And as she slipped her feet into her heels and headed for her car, she ignored the nagging feeling that this time—thistime—she was making a huge mistake.

Chapter 1

“Dr. Garcia, in your professional opinion, do you feel this court should award Mr. Shipman full custody of his son at this time?” A.D.A. Angelia Roussos—Denver’s lead family court prosecutor—stood in front of Izzy and waited.

As the DPD’s new forensic psychiatrist, Izzy’s duties varied depending upon the department’s needs. Things like going to fresh crime scenes to offer her professional opinion about the victims and/or killers, working with the local FBI office when a criminal profile was needed, assisting SWAT with hostage negotiations, and most often, offering an unbiased professional opinion as an expert witness for the DPD and the state of Colorado.

Typically the cases for which she testified were criminal, but Izzy also worked closely with the D.A.’s office during the more serious family court proceedings. Like this one.

Turning away from A.D.A. Roussos—a woman Izzy had a fairly solid working relationship with—Izzy looked directly at the judge when she answered Angelia’s question with a firm and concise, “No. I do not believe Mr. Shipman should be awarded custody of his son.”

Though the graying woman sitting behind the bench couldn’t say it without causing a mistrial, the look in the judge’s wise eyes told Izzy everything she needed to know.

She agrees with me.

“Dr. Garcia,” A.D.A. Roussos continued. “Can you please explain to the court what brought you to this conclusion?” The tips of her sandy blonde, shoulder-length hair brushed against her gray suit jacket’s lapel as she moved.

From her place on the witness stand, Izzy kept her spine straight and her eyes on her colleague as she answered with, “I met with Mr. Shipman earlier this week.”

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