Into the Fury (BOSS, Inc. #1)(18)

He’d done everything in his power to avoid the attraction he felt for Valentine Hart—Valerie, he corrected. Now a murder had thrown them together.

As he fell in behind her little red sports car and Val wove her way through the Bellevue traffic, he thought about the woman he had misread so badly. A memory arose of her and Samantha, wet and soapy as they shampooed the big hairy dog. He thought of the dimpled grin on Val’s face.

For the past three years, he’d been nursing his anger, harboring a grudge against women; not just his ex, but women in general.

Watching Samantha—the best thing that had ever happened to Nick, seeing Valerie on her all-important day helping a friend with an injured dog—it was hard to hang on to that anger.

It was past time to let it go and he knew it.

Ethan scrubbed a hand over his face. Since now wasn’t the best time to be examining his life, trying to figure out what it was he really wanted, he needed to focus on his job. He had a theater full of women to protect and a murder to solve.

Which meant he’d have to be even more careful to keep his distance from Valentine Hart.





Val pulled up in front of her garage and opened the door as Ethan parked in front of the duplex, got out of his big black Jeep, and walked toward her.

Why was it he seemed to get better looking every time she saw him? When he smiled, which he didn’t do that often, he was a devastatingly handsome man.

“Wait here,” he said, joining her in the garage. He opened the door into her kitchen and disappeared inside to check things out, returned a few minutes later, and led her into the apartment.

“I’ve got to get over to the crime scene,” he said. “That means you have to come with me. Pull on a dry T-shirt and let’s get going. I’ll bring you back as soon as I’m finished.”

Her hackles went up. “I can’t go running off with you, Ethan. I have to get ready for the show.”

“I thought they were doing hair and makeup at the theater.”

“They are, but I have to shower, throw a few personal items into a bag. I was planning on doing a little meditation, try to get myself relaxed before tonight.”

“You’ll still have time for that. Dry T-shirt, or I take you the way you are.”

She couldn’t believe it. He might be handsome, but he was still an overbearing, macho jerk. “You’re kidding, right? Now you’re threatening to manhandle me?”

Amusement touched his lips and his hard look softened. “Sorry. I’m a little out of practice dealing with women. I need to keep you safe, Val. I have no idea where the crazy who killed Delilah might turn up next. Until we know more, I need you somewhere I can protect you.”

He had a point. A woman was dead. Val had also received one of those letters. She sighed. “Okay, I see your point. But you’d better get me back here in time to get ready.”

“No problem.”

She hurried into the bedroom, dragged off her wet Seahawks tee, pulled on a yellow T-shirt with I heart Seattle on the front, then returned to the living room.

Ethan was occupying himself with a perusal of her apartment. “Nice place,” he said, his gaze going over the antique bookshelves, the overstuffed nutmeg tweed sofa and chair that complemented the flecks of brown in the beige carpet. One of her mom’s framed samplers hung on the wall next to some cute dog and cat prints.

“Homey,” he said. She noticed Snoozie had wandered in and was winding his way between Ethan’s long legs. He didn’t seem to mind.

“Another surprise?”

“I would have guessed modern and expensive.”

“Why is that?”

“Because you don’t exactly look the homey type.” He picked up the big gray tom and absently stroked his fur. Val felt the movement of his fingers as if they were touching her instead of the cat.

“I’m saving my money to finish vet school,” she said, shaking off the thought. “Sam told you that. This place is as much as I can afford until I graduate. And if you want to know the truth, I like it—so there.”

His lips twitched. God, the man had a beautiful mouth. Just looking at the way it curved did funny things to the pit of her stomach.

“You live alone?”

“Just me and Snoozie.”

“We’ve met.” Ethan scratched the cat beneath his chin one last time, then set him back on his feet. “No boyfriend, then. Sam didn’t say, but I don’t see any sign of one.”

“What, you were prowling around while I was changing?”

“I’m a detective. Prowling is what I do.”

She shook her head. “No boyfriend. I don’t have time.”

She didn’t say more as Ethan opened the front door and she walked out of the apartment, crossed the old-fashioned covered front porch, and made her way along the walkway out to his Jeep—a big black Wrangler four-door hardtop that looked like a smaller version of a Hummer and shouted too much testosterone. She couldn’t deny it seemed to fit him.

He opened the door on the passenger side and Val climbed up in the seat. Ethan walked around, slid in on the other side, and cranked the engine.

“How much college do you have left?” he asked as he pulled away from the curb.

“One more year. It’s taken me longer than other students. I’m twenty-six, almost twenty-seven. I . . . umm . . . had a couple of setbacks in high school, didn’t graduate on time. My . . . umm . . . parents got me a tutor and I started getting good grades. Even with a partial scholarship, I still had to work.”