As she sped down the alley, Beth knew she was gambling with her life. There was a serious chance she was being played. By a killer.

Except how did he know all those things she was feeling?

Before she turned the corner, she looked back at Butch. He was reaching out to her, one hand extended. She couldn't see his face for the shadows, but his desperate yearning crossed the distance between them. She hesitated, losing the rhythm of her steps.

Wrath took her arm. "Beth. Come on."

Heaven help her, she started running again.

The minute they got out to Trade, she hailed a passing cab. Thank God, it stopped on a dime. They jumped in, and Wrath gave out an address a couple blocks over from the one he'd told her on Wallace Avenue. Obviously as an evasion technique.

He must have a lot of those, she thought.

As the cab took off, she felt him look across the seat at her.

"That cop," he said. "Does he mean something to you?"

She grabbed her cell phone from her purse and dialed the front desk down at the station.

"I asked you a question." Wrath's tone was sharp.

"Go to hell." When Ricky's voice came through, she took a deep breath. "Is Jose there?"

It didn't take more than a minute for the other detective to be found, and he was already out the door to find Butch as she ended the call. Jose hadn't asked many questions, but she knew they were going to come later. And just how was she going to explain to him why she'd run off with a suspect?

That made her an accomplice for aiding and abetting, didn't it?

Beth put her phone back in her purse. Her hands were shaking, and she felt light-headed. She just couldn't catch her breath either, even though the cab was air-conditioned and blissfully cool. She cracked the window. The breeze was hot and damp as it blew through her hair.

What had she done? To her body last night. To her life right now.

What was next? Setting her apartment on fire?

She hated that Wrath had dangled the one carrot she couldn't resist in front of her. That he was obviously a criminal. That he terrified her, but she still got hot thinking about how he'd kissed her.

And she despised the fact that he knew those were her first orgasms.

"Drop us off here," Wrath told the driver ten minutes later.

Beth paid with a twenty-dollar bill, thinking they were lucky she had the cash on her. Wrath's money, that big bank roll of the stuff, was on the ground in her backyard. So it wasn't like he could cover the fare.

Was she really going home with this man?

The taxi left, and they walked down a perfectly kept sidewalk in a well-maintained, ritzy neighborhood. It was an absurd switch in scenery. From the violence in that back alley, to rolling lawns and flower beds.

She was willing to bet the people who lived in these houses had never run from the police.

She glanced back at Wrath, who was slightly behind her. He was scanning around them as if he were looking to get jumped, although how he could see anything with those black glasses on, she had no idea. She just didn't get why he wore them. Aside from compromising his vision, those flashy lenses were a serious identifying feature. If anyone clapped their eyes on him, they'd be able to describe him accurately in a heartbeat.

Not that the long black hair and the sheer size of him wouldn't have done the job well enough.

She turned her head awav. The sound of his boots hitting the concrete behind her was like fists thudding on a solid door.

"So the cop." Wrath's voice was close, deep. "Is he your lover?"

Beth almost laughed. God, he sounded jealous.

"I'm not going to answer that."

"Why?"

"Because I don't have to. I don't know you, I don't owe you."

"You got to know me pretty damn well last night," he said in a low growl. "And I got to know you very well."

Let's not go there, she thought, getting instantly wet between her legs. God, the things that man could do with his tongue.

She crossed her arms over her chest and stared at a well-kept Colonial. Lights glowed in various windows, making it look inviting and somehow familiar. Probably because homey-looking places were universal. And universally appealing.

She could use a week in one right about now.

"Last night was a mistake," she said.

"Didn't feel that way to me."

"Then you felt wrong. You felt all wrong."

He reached for her before she even sensed he'd moved. She was walking along and then she was in his arms. One of his hands clamped onto the base of her neck. The other pulled her hips tight against him. His erection was a thick rope on her belly.

She closed her eyes. Every inch of her skin came alive, her temperature soaring. She hated the reaction to him, but like the man, she had no control over it.

She waited for his mouth to come down on hers, except he didn't kiss her. He bent his lips to her ear instead.

"Don't trust me. Don't like me. I could give a shit. But don't you ever lie to me." He took a deep breath, as if he were drawing her into him. "I can smell the sex coming off you right now. I could take you down on this sidewalk and be up that skirt of yours in a heartbeat. And you wouldn't fight me, would you?"

No, she probably wouldn't.

Because she was an idiot. Who evidently had a death wish.

His lips brushed the side of her neck. And then his tongue licked her skin lightly. "Now, we can be civilized and wait until we get home. Or we can get down to it right here. Either way, I'm dying to come inside of you again, and you're not going to say no."

Beth gripped his shoulders through his leather jacket. She was supposed to push him away, but she didn't. She brought him closer, arching her breasts to his chest.

A sound of male desperation broke free of him, halfway between a groan of satisfaction and a dark plea.

Ha, she thought, regaining some power.

She broke their contact with grim satisfaction. "The only thing that makes this god-awful situation remotely bearable is the fact that you want me more."

She kicked her chin up and started walking. She could actually feel his eyes on her body as he followed, as if he were touching her with his hands.

"You're right," he said. "I would kill to have you."

Beth wheeled around, pointing a finger at him. "So that was it. You saw Butch and me kissing in the car. Didn't you?"

Wrath cocked an eyebrow at her. Smiled tightly. Didn't answer.

"Is that why you attacked him?"

"I was merely resisting arrest."

"Yeah, that's what it looked like," she muttered. "So did you? Did you see him kiss me?"

Wrath closed the space between their bodies, menace flowing out of him. "Yeah, I saw. And I hated that he was touching you. Does knowing that get you off? Do you want to nail me a good one and tell me he's a better lover than I am? It would be a lie, but it would still hurt like hell."

"Why do you care so much?" she demanded. "You and I spent one night together. Not even! It was a couple of hours."

He clamped his jaw shut. She knew his teeth were grinding by the way the hollows under his cheekbones moved. And she was glad he was wearing the sunglasses. She had a feeling his eyes would have scared the hell out of her.

When a car passed by on the street, she remembered he was a fugitive from the police, and technically so was she.

What the hell were they doing, arguing on the sidewalk… like lovers?