Into the Fury (BOSS, Inc. #1)(41)

Ethan’s mouth edged up. “Healed just fine.”

“I haven’t forgotten what you did that day.” A back alley bar fight that had turned deadly. “If you hadn’t showed up when you did, I wouldn’t be here now.”

“You would have done the same thing.”

“I like to think so.” Heath stuck out a hand, then leaned in to grip Ethan’s shoulder. “I’ll keep you posted.”

“Thanks, my friend; I appreciate it.”

Ethan left the office, climbed into the rental car he’d had delivered to the theater that morning, and headed back to the hotel. He had a job to do and part of it was finding a murderer, but he had been gone most of the day. He was beginning to get edgy about being away so long.

Dirk was with the women. Ethan told himself not to worry.

Didn’t do a lick of good.





In the opulent Ritz hotel bar, the Rattlesnake, with its contemporary western theme, dark wood, and backlit golden onyx panels, Val sat at a table with Isabel and Meg. Sipping a glass of white wine, she tried to concentrate on the women’s conversation. Across the room at the long polished bar, Dirk lounged on a stool drinking a Coke, watching the room, playing bodyguard.

He was armed, Val knew, a big menacing pistol holstered at his waist beneath the black La Belle T-shirt he wore—though no one actually believed the killer would strike in a place as public as the luxurious Ritz-Carlton.

She tried not to look for Ethan. Their jobs aside, she didn’t have time to get involved with a man. As soon as the tour was over, she was taking the part-time job she’d been offered at the animal clinic, waiting for school to start, then throwing herself into classes.

She’d be studying, preparing, taking on new responsibilities. She was getting her vet degree, then starting a career.

She glanced toward the door, saw Ethan walk into the room, and her whole body flushed with heat. In a pair of wraparound sunglasses, tall and broad-shouldered, built as if he’d just stepped out of the pages of a romance fantasy, he made the word virile look impotent.

Her stomach contracted. It was ridiculous. He was only a man. Maybe it was just that he made her feel safe, which no one had done in all the years since Bobby.

He pulled off the shades and tucked them into the top of his T-shirt, his dark gaze finding her as if he had some special radar. Instead of walking toward her, he headed for the bar and took a stool next to Dirk.

Val forced her attention back to the women, caught the tail end of a story about Meg’s darling little boy, Charlie, smiled, and managed to say something that didn’t sound completely inane.

When Matt Carlyle walked in and rounded them up to join the other models for dinner, she followed. Ethan and Dirk fell in behind the group, but instead of sitting at one of the tables, positioned themselves against the wall at opposite ends of the private dining room.

When the meal was over, the models headed up to their rooms, escorted by La Belle security guards. Dirk escorted Meg while Ethan accompanied Val, but they didn’t talk along the way.

At the door to her suite, Ethan paused. “Get some sleep. You’ve got another long day tomorrow.” His features were carefully blank, but his eyes were dark and hot, and she knew what he wanted, knew he was thinking about what it would be like if she invited him into her room, into her bed.

The knowledge made her pulse surge, and a feeling of power slid through her. Ethan might not admit it, but he was as attracted to her as she was to him.

When he took the key card out of her hand and slid it through the lock, pushed open her door, and stepped inside, she felt a rush of yearning so strong it made her dizzy.

But Ethan just checked the living room, the bedroom, the closet, checked out the marble bathroom, then returned to the door.

“There’s security on your floor around the clock. This high up, there’s no way an intruder can get to you from outside. You’re safe. You don’t have to worry.”

She swallowed, nodded. “Okay.”

“Good night, Valentine.”

He was using her stage name, reminding her of her job and his, and that they needed to keep their distance.

“Good night, Ethan.”

He stood unmoving for another few seconds, his eyes on her face, waited until she moved back a little and closed the door. She heard his heavy footfalls as he turned and walked away.





Chapter Sixteen



Ethan couldn’t sleep. Desire kept him hot and hard into the small hours of the night. Dammit, he had never felt such a clawing need for a woman, not with Ally or anyone else.

He finally fell asleep sometime after two, tossed and turned, and woke up a few hours later when his cell phone started to signal. He rolled over and checked the red digits on the clock on the bedside table. Six A.M.

Ethan looked at the caller ID, saw a Dallas area code, but didn’t recognize the number. “Brodie.”

“Heath Ford. I’ve got some bad news, Ethan.”

The muscles across his shoulders went tense as he sat up in bed. “Tell me.”

“A woman was murdered last night. Happened sometime between midnight and two A.M. Vic was strangled. Raped. She fought him and went down hard.”

His grip tightened on the phone. “One of the models?” He’d thought they were all in and accounted for, prayed like hell they were.