If You Know Her: A Novel of Romantic Suspense

Elizabeth was a sweetheart. They’d gotten to be friends over the past few months and Elizabeth hadn’t ever acted like that before—staring at Hope with that shining, wide-eyed gaze and all but tripping over her feet as she followed them to the door.
    She’d been acting weird enough that Hope had almostasked Remy about it, but decided against it, especially seeing as how Remy was acting kind of weird, too.
    Not mad or anything. Just quiet. And it made her nervous.
    This was nice, though. Being here with him—some piece of land somebody in his family owned—Hope had no idea who. The Jennings clan seemed to multiply every time she turned around.
    He had a basket with wine, more of that lovely local wine she liked so much, some strawberries, a blanket. Her heart all but melted at the romance of it. Hoping the smile on her face didn’t look too goofy, she sat and combed her fingers through Remy’s golden hair and stared at him.
    Hell.
    He was so pretty.
    Too pretty.
    And hers—he loved her.
    Really loved her.
    As if he’d been reading her mind, he opened his eyes and looked up at her—that amazing blue capturing her gaze, holding her. “I love you,” he said softly.
    Her heart danced in her chest. As her heart sighed, she laid her hand on his cheek and murmured, “I love you, too.”
    In an easy, lazy movement, he rolled to his knees and settled in front of her. “That’s a good thing to know.” A smile tugged at his lips. He caught her hand in his, lifted it to his lips. “Because I need to ask you something.”
    “Hmm. Okay.” She swayed forward, pressed her lips to his. Hmmmm … he tasted like wine and strawberries. Hope slid her tongue along his lower lip and then eased back, smiling at him. “What did you want to ask?”
    He didn’t say anything right away. Still holding herhand, he rubbed his thumb along the back of it—pushed something … oh, hell.
    Hope froze. Looked down.
    Her eyes widened as she watched Remy push a golden band, set with diamonds and an emerald, onto her left hand. Her ring finger. Oh. Oh, man. Her heart banged against her ribs.
    “Will you marry me?”
    I can’t cope, Law. Not right now. Not yet … I can’t. Because I don’t think Joe Carson is the one who killed my cousin
.
    Nia Hollister’s words echoed through his mind and although he tried to tell himself to be calm, he was having a hard time of it. She knew. Somehow she knew.
    “That fucking
bitch
.”
    He moved through the woods easily, moving on autopilot. He’d been here so many times, roamed these paths for so many years. They were like home to him.
    It freed his mind to think—to brood. To fume. How? Shit. How did she know? He hadn’t left any clues for anybody to figure it out—he knew he hadn’t because if he had, the cops would already be all over his damn ass.
    So how did
she
know? Bitch. Fucking bitch.
    He wanted her dead—that’s what he wanted.
    But he knew better than to act rashly.
    Couldn’t do that. He’d done that before and it had brought hell down on him. Leaving Hollister’s cousin here
—that
had been rash, although it had seemed to be a clever move at the time, a move that would solve his problems. He’d been arrogant, foolish, and it had damn near ended everything.
    He hadn’t been as careful as he needed to be in Chicago, either. Hadn’t been careful with Mara.
    Too many mistakes—and all it took was one for him to be caught.
    Couldn’t afford to screw up now. Not with her.
Fuck
. Careful—he’d be careful now if it killed him. Still … he had to watch her. Had to figure out his next move.
    And he couldn’t do that without knowing her. Always wise to know his prey. Always wise.
    He needed her gone.
    More than anything, he needed her gone and perhaps, if he could get to know his prey well enough, he could figure out a way to make that happen that wouldn’t involve killing her, hurting her … anything that might spin things back around so that they took a closer look at her cousin’s murder.
    Something.
    Anything.
    Know your prey … always good advice.
    Her soft, golden skin had a grayish undertone and her eyes glittered hard as glass as she stared at him—waiting, Law realized.
    Waiting for him to either dismiss her or brush her fears aside.
    He hid a cynical smile. If she knew him at all, she wouldn’t look so worried—Law thrived on conspiracy theories, paranoid crap. What she was thinking didn’t even come close to some of his crazier