“This is the most he’s ever broadcast. Before, he’s been somewhat reserved until almost the last moment. He almost felt like a predator hunting and then there would be a rush of euphoria. This feels as though he’s in a continual high, that constant rush. He likes knowing he’ll spend hours with his victim and can kill him at any time.”
“Twice I was sent to hunt a predator within a unit, one in the Marines and one in the Army, four years apart. The men would go out for training or a small engagement with the enemy. One wouldn’t return. They would find a soldier murdered when they went looking for him. The commander began to suspect they had a serial killer within their ranks, but no matter what traps they set, they couldn’t find him. I was sent for. Of course, no one knew who I was. Most of the time they never saw me. I conducted an investigation behind the scenes, so to speak.”
Stella waited, her eyes on his. Sam rarely talked about his past, or any of the assignments he’d had. She found it fascinating to think that he would be sent to investigate within the ranks of the military and yet no one would even know he was there.
“I take it you found both of them.”
He nodded. “I did. They were not turned over for trial.” His gaze continued to hold hers steadily. “That was part of my job. I was to remove them permanently.”
“Have you had to hunt very many serial killers?”
“It depends on whether or not you call terrorists or presidents of drug cartels serial killers. Everyone has a reason for what they choose to do, but if I was sent after them, you can believe they killed a lot of innocent people.”
She wanted to go to him and put her arms around him. Just as she had been pulled back into her past with this horror, so had he. He’d been stoic about it. Matter-of-fact. But there was a reason Sam had ended up in the Sierras in the little town of Knightly. Like all of them, he’d been seeking peace. He wanted away from his job, and although it didn’t show on his face, because it never did, she felt the underlying sadness in him that he thought he would have to be the one to hunt the killer.
“We’ll figure out who this man is, Sam, and we’ll get the proof we need and turn him over to Griffen.” She poured determination into her voice.
“It isn’t easy to get proof against this kind of killer, Stella. That’s why men with my skills exist. That’s why I’m sent in.”
“That’s why you were sent in. Now, someone else does that work. Not you. You’re out of it. You’re here to start a new life, just like I am. Just like Raine and Vienna and everyone else. Sam, you can’t think the way you used to.”
A slow smile heated his eyes, instantly sending her stomach tumbling into a series of loops and somersaults. He was seriously sexy without even trying.
“Sweetheart, I can’t just shut down that way of thinking. It’s who I am.”
“You’re going to have to try harder.” She gave him her sternest look, the one she gave Bailey when she really meant what she said.
“Start drawing, Stella. I’ll go for my walk and then take Bailey out. The look, by the way, is cute. Bailey thinks so too.” Sam stood up, stretching lazily.
She scowled at him, a fierce, black scowl meant to intimidate. “My stern look is not cute. Bailey always minds me when I give him that look. I suggest you do as well if you know what’s good for you.”
His mouth twitched. The corners of his eyes crinkled. They weren’t laugh lines, more like sun lines, but she thought they should have been laugh lines. They always would be to her. She would never get tired of looking at him.
“I’m tempted to see what would happen to me if I disobeyed. I think your hair is crackling, Satine.”
His smile came close to melting her insides. She pressed her hand to her stomach and deliberately narrowed her gaze at him, liking the easy way they could tease each other even under the dire circumstances.
“I don’t think you want to risk it,” she warned.
He walked over to the side of the bed in that fluid way he had and bent his head to hers. Slow. Taking his time. She turned her face up to his, giving him her mouth. One large hand framed the side of her face, his thumb sliding in a caress over her cheek as his head continued to descend.
Her heart stuttered. Her sex clenched. Lashes fell to shutter her sight. The moment his lips claimed hers, sparks erupted over her skin. Goose bumps broke out. His arms came around her and he shifted her against his chest. She slid her arms up so she could link her fingers behind his neck.