If You Know Her: A Novel of Romantic Suspense

sheriff’s office, talk to Ezra.”
    “He’s coming in late today.”
    “Then I’ll head to his house. I know where he lives.”
    Although he was tempted to go to Nia’s. And he would—right after he cooled off.
    Why hadn’t she called him? What the hell was going on?
    Abruptly, he found himself thinking about what she’d told him. Her fears that Joe Carson hadn’t killed her cousin. An icy sweat broke out over his spine and all of a sudden, he didn’t give a shit about cooling off. He took off for his car at a jog. Blind fear grabbed him—almost choked him. Would have choked him, if he hadn’t throttled it down.
    It wouldn’t be smart for somebody to grab her, he told himself. Not if the killer really was still alive.
If
the killer was alive, then there was some sort of connection, or something—something that Nia had stumbled on to, knowingly or otherwise.
    Killing her was stupid now. If the killer
was
alive, then he was smart.
    Wouldn’t risk killing her … yet.
    Law didn’t think.
    Sleep evaded her, but she didn’t want to sleep anyway.
    Nia was happy to stay in that chair, floating along in that little twilight place between sleep and wakefulness. Zoning out. That’s what she was doing. Zoning out.
    But when a fist started pounding on the door, it damn near scared her to death and she shrieked, struggling free of the blanket, ending up in a tangle on the floor.
    Something crashed against the door.
    She heard somebody call her name.
    Confused, her butt hurting, she looked up and stared at the door, shuddering in its casement.
Law—?
    Another crash against the door. Damn it, he was going to tear the damn door off the hinges! Swearing, she shoved to her feet and rushed to the door, throwing it open just as he was about to throw himself against it a fourth time.
    “Damn it, are you insane?” she snapped.
    He caught her around the waist, jerking her against him.
    Stunned, her head spinning, she stood there, her face pressed against his neck, the scent of him flooding her head. Right when she’d almost caught her breath, he pushed her away and stared down at her. “Are you okay? Why in the hell did you scream?”
    Then he was turning her head this way, that way.
    The concern in his eyes was doing weird little things to her heart—as was the fact that he’d all but busted the door down because he’d been worried, but still. Scowling, she pulled away from him and smoothed her shirt down, noticing that she was still wearing the wrinkled T-shirt she’d pulled on when she’d called the sheriff’s department.
    “I’d been sleeping,” she said. “I … well, I fell out of the chair when you knocked. Guess that’s what you heard.”
    “I … oh.” He frowned, shoved a hand through his hair. It was standing up in spikes and tufts, like he’d been doing that a lot lately. He had the grace to look a little abashed, but that faded about three seconds later, replaced by an annoyed look. “I heard you had some company last night.”
    She cocked a brow. “Well. That small-town gossip really does get around, huh?”
    “Why didn’t you call me?”
    “I called the sheriff’s department,” she pointed out, gesturing to the rapidly approaching deputies who’d been sitting in their car.
    “Yeah. I’m glad you did. But you could have called me, too.”
    Something flashed in his hazel eyes … something that looked like hurt. It made her uncomfortable, she realized. And it made her wish even more that she
had
called him.
    “I wanted to,” she said quietly, unaware she’d been planning to say it until the words were already there, hanging between them. Sighing, she waved the deputies off and retreated back into the cabin, leaving Law to deal with the door. “But I … hell.”
    Tired, she sat on the side of the bed, clasped her hands between her knees. “We still don’t even know what we’re doing together, do we, Law? Other than sex and me waving a gun at you and you trouncing my ass, we have no history.”
    “Do we need a history for me to worry about you?”
    She looked up, watched as he crossed the floor. He crouched down in front of her, reached up. He cupped her cheek and rubbed his thumb over her lips. “Do we, Nia?”
    “No … I don’t guess we do.” He was melting her. Working his way so deep inside her already. How did she handle it? How? Blowing out a shaky breath, she reached up and covered his hand with hers. “I wanted to call, almost did several times.