The Girl Next Door

His tongue licked across her bottom lip then thrust into her mouth. He tasted her. He claimed. He—

“The cop was still here,” Cooper growled against her lips. “I didn’t want him suspicious.”

He was kissing her for a cover.

Had she moaned? She’d definitely sunk her nails into his shoulders. She’d even arched against him.

“I—I know,” she lied. Their mouths were barely an inch apart. “The kiss was a good idea.”

A car cranked. The engine growled.

“I’m guessing that’s him,” Gabrielle said as she kept her hands on Cooper. But she did retract her nails. “Pulling away?”

He nodded. “I’m not letting you go until he’s gone.”

His body was so warm.

The kiss had been a fake.

Humiliating. Maybe she’d played it off, though. Maybe.

They stood there, embracing, mouths so incredibly close, and in that moment, Gabrielle realized a very important fact.

Cooper was aroused.

If she hadn’t been so distracted a moment before, she would have been keyed in to that situation sooner. She was so focused on the hot feel of his mouth she hadn’t realized until now that the hips thrusting against her—

He freed her.

Gabrielle stopped feeling quite so humiliated. He had been affected by the kiss. Mr. Dangerous had gotten just as caught up as she had in the heat of the moment.

“We need to get home,” he said in that deep rumble of his. “Come on, my bike’s waiting.”

Her phone vibrated, jerking in her pocket. She’d turned the ringer off before her little stint of B&E. “Hold on,” Gabrielle told him. She yanked out her phone and recognized her boss’s number at the Inquisitor.

“Gabrielle...” Cooper gritted out.

“It’s my boss. Calling after midnight. I have to take this.” Because there was only one reason Hugh Peters would call her this late.

A story.

“What is it, Hugh?”

“I just heard on the police scanner...” Excitement thickened his voice. “They got another vic. A female. Same MO as Archer.”

Her fingers tightened around the phone. “Where.”

He rattled off the address.

The address was close, just a few blocks away. She could jog there.

She would jog there.

“You get there and you find out what the hell is happening, got it?” Hugh said. Before she could answer, he continued, “Three kills? This mess is starting to look like the work of a serial.”

His words chilled her. “We can’t know that, not yet.”

Cooper’s gaze was on her.

“Get there and find out,” Hugh ordered.

She shoved the phone back into her pocket. “Thanks for the offer of the ride, but my night’s not over yet.”

No wonder the cop had rushed away. She tilted her head and heard the wail of sirens in the distance.

Cooper stiffened. “What’s happened?”

“Another woman has been found with her throat cut.” She spun away from him. It was a good thing she jogged regularly. “I’ll see you later, Cooper. Thanks for the help!”

He grabbed her wrist. “You’re racing to a murder scene?”

“It’s what I do.” He was slowing her down.

Cooper shook his head. “Going on foot isn’t the way. I can get you there faster.” He pointed to his waiting motorcycle. “Just give me the address, and I’m there.”

She didn’t want to waste time arguing. She called out the address even as she climbed onto the bike. Seconds later they were racing away.

* * *

“IT LOOKS LIKE the same MO,” Cooper said into his phone. He’d backed away from the crowd, found the best cover of shadows, and now he watched the chaotic scene with a careful gaze. “One of the cops said that the victim was a woman named Melanie Farrell.”

“She’s not one of ours,” the clipped voice on the other end of the line responded. That voice belonged to Bruce Mercer. Cooper’s boss. A man who knew where every single secret was buried in D.C.

Mostly because his job was to bury those secrets.

“You sure about that?” Cooper pressed. “She was found in her apartment, with the doors locked. Her throat was slit, and there were no signs of a struggle.”

A low whistle. “You sure learned a lot on this one, fast.”

His gaze tracked over to Gabrielle. She was currently talking quickly to a uniformed cop. The cop looked nervous. Since Gabrielle was grilling him, the guy should be nervous. “I had a little help.” She’d been the one to get all of those details.

“The reporter.” A long sigh slipped from Mercer. “I thought you had her contained.”

Containing Gabrielle was a bit of a challenge. It was a good thing that he liked challenges. “I can use her. The cops tell her more in a few minutes than they would ever reveal to me.” He had the P.I. cover for a reason, but Gabrielle’s resources were proving to be far more useful.

Gabrielle eased away from the cop and gazed up at the building.

Trying to find a way inside, aren’t you?