Until he did leave, she had no choice but to face up to the results of her actions so long ago. But there was one thing she was sure of—any dance they shared would be on her terms. Not his, and not the moon's.
"I thought it wasn't for you to judge with the IIS here."
She resisted the temptation to bare her teeth. “I wasn't judging. I was commenting."
"And yet you said before that you knew nothing."
"But I never said I hadn't seen anything.” She gave a bitter laugh. “But you never asked that question, did you? You just charged right in and took what you thought you needed."
"I was trying to stop a murderer."
And in the process had destroyed something so very fragile, so very rare. Or so she'd thought at the time. Truth was, she was the only one who'd thought what was happening between them was worth anything.
"Then I guess you got what you wanted, didn't you?"
He stared at her for too many minutes, his navy gaze so intent, so full of heat and anger, that she felt like a mischievous school kid under the glare of a stern principal. And that only raised the bar of her own fury. Damn it, she'd done nothing wrong ten years ago. If he could accuse her of anything then it was naivety.
She pushed away from the table and stood. He straightened with her, and though the table was still between them, he was far too close. But retreat was the one thing she wouldn't do. This was her turf, her home, and she would not give him the upper hand this time. “I understand why the moon heat will cause problems for us working together, but why do you think the murderer leaving notes will?"
"Because they're not general notes. They're personal ones, aimed at the two people who were at Rosehall."
She raised an eyebrow. “There were lots of us who lived in Rosehall. It was a commune, for God's sake."
"But not everyone there believed in the free sex ideals. Some of them had a taste for blood."
"Only one,” she corrected. “And stop using that condescending tone. If I remember correctly, you were more than ready to enjoy those free sex ideals."
"I still am,” he said, reaching for her.
She stepped back and punched his hand away. “So you're saying that this murderer could be going after people who were in Rosehall?” She frowned. “I'm pretty sure the first victim, at least, was never there."
He flexed his fingers, as if her punch had hurt him, which she hadn't intended to do.
"What if these murders are merely a means of drawing together the two people responsible for bringing down the ideals of that place?"
"I never—"
"By association, yeah, you did. You claimed me, remember? And stayed with me."
"Which just goes to show how young and stupid I truly was.” She finished her coffee and put the mug back on the table. “So we should be extra cautious until we understand the motive?"
He nodded. “Do you live alone?"
"Yes, and you are not spending the entire night with me.” That would suggest an intimacy that went beyond just sex, and she wasn't willing to step that far. Not with him.
He gave her that bittersweet smile again, and it made her ache deep inside. “Once you would have begged me to stay."
"Once was a long time ago, when I was young and stupid.” She hesitated, but she knew she had to lay down some ground rules before things progressed much further. “I may not have a choice in this, but I do have conditions."
"Conditions?” He made a contemptuous sound. “How can you put restrictions on something neither of us has control over?"
"Because I'd rather go mad than ever put myself at your mercy again."
"It wasn't that bad, Vannah."
"Savannah,” she amended angrily. “And yes, it was."
He stared at her for a moment. Then he spun on his heel and returned to his pacing. “So hit me with the conditions."