“You’ll be fine.” Ralston’s eyes softened when he looked at Darcy. “And I can’t go anyway. The mayor has me reinspecting all the public buildings as part of a planned overhaul of the alarm systems.”
“Panic’s spreading,” she muttered, pulling a set of keys out of her pocket. “Don’t let them keep you out all night.”
“I won’t, but I may be late. Let yourself in if I’m not there.”
She shook her head. “Thank you. I’m fine.”
Frowning, Ralston asked, “You sure?”
“Don’t worry about me. I’m good.”
“Okay, then. See you tomorrow.”
The man left, but Jared’s jaw didn’t relax even then. “He’s a little old for you, isn’t he?”
Darcy paused in the act of rounding her desk. “Excuse me?”
“He’s what? Forty? Forty-five?”
“We’re not talking about this.” She walked right past him.
Damn it, when she got stern in that voice of hers, it made him hot. He’d just reached the point of being too occupied by his work to pay attention to her sex appeal, then Jim Ralston had fucked it all to hell by showing up and starting a territory war.
Jared followed. “How long has it been over between you two?”
“Long enough.”
“For you, maybe. Not for him.”
“You’re way off base.” She strode right out of the open bay door and into the parking lot, making a beeline for a city-owned pickup truck with emblems on the door and a light bar on the roof. “He was there for me during a rough time in my life. It was never serious and it’s been over for nearly two years—not that it’s any of your damn business.”
“The hell it isn’t,” he shot back, rounding the front end and yanking open the passenger door. “If he’s going to be a problem, I have a right to know.”
“He’s not a problem. Drop it.”
“That bit about you letting yourself into his place was like a dog lifting his leg.”
She met his gaze through the window. “You don’t have any right to my personal history. You don’t have any rights at all where I’m concerned. You’re a possible good time and that’s it. And even that’s debatable at the moment.”
“Is it, now?” He glanced at his watch, then slid into the truck and slammed the door shut. It was four thirty. “Let’s go.”
Chapter three
Darcy got behind the wheel and slid the key in the ignition, her thoughts roiling. Backing down from Jared Cameron wasn’t an option. At the tiniest show of weakness, he would steamroll right over her. And the alternative—keeping him at a distance—wasn’t an option she considered for more than a second. She wanted him. Badly. Almost desperately, if she was being honest. So, as overbearing and aggravating as he was, she was inclined to put up with his social Asperger’s if that’s what it took to have him in her bed.
They drove to what was left of Florinda’s Dance Studio in silence. Jared’s gaze slid back and forth over the city, taking everything in. There was a story behind his precise focus, something that explained the edge to him that set him apart from other law enforcement officers she’d met. He was hyperaware and highly perceptive. He moved like a predator, with an economy of movement and lightness of stride. And he never let his guard down.
A man hunter. That’s what he was. Someone had spent a lot of money training him to be dangerous. The military, she guessed.
She parked on the street in front of the studio and got out. There were already bulldozers on the lot and giant Dumpsters to collect the rubble. Her stomach clenched tight with grief and sadness so thick it was hard for her to swallow past it.
Sucking in a deep breath, she joined Jared at the curb. He turned slowly, examining the surrounding neighborhood.
Darcy steeled her resolve and moved forward into the roofless ruins, trying to picture the place as it had once been. She was sorry it had been so long since she’d last visited. Her memories were cobwebbed from childhood. There were only faint echoes of bygone times when she and Danielle had playfully competed against one another and shared ballerina dreams.
“Adults or children?” Jared asked, breaking into her reverie.
“Excuse me?” She looked at him.