A slight smile touched the lips that were still as sensual as she remembered. Then his gaze rolled languidly down her body, a touch that wasn't a touch, and yet one that sent energy singing across every fiber of her being. Her ni**les hardened, pressing almost painfully against the restrictions of her shirt, and the deep-down ache got stronger.
His navy gaze completed its erotic journey and rose to meet hers again, lingering a little on the scar that marred the left side of her face. But it wasn't the heat in his look that made her tremble. It was the sudden flash of anger.
As if he had anything to be angry about.
"Well, well,” he said. “Fancy finding you here, of all places."
His voice was husky, deep, and conjured memories of whispered endearments and long, sweaty nights of lovemaking. And even after all the time that had separated them, his voice still had the power to rock her. Maybe because she still heard it in the worst of her dreams—dreams in which he'd spun his web of desire and deceit around her as easily as he had in real life.
And it was those memories, as well as the anger that was now so visible in the depths of his eyes, that got her feet moving.
"What are you doing here, Cade?"
The smile that touched his lips never reached his eyes. Never warmed those icy, dark-blue depths. “You reported a murder. I'm here to investigate it."
She sat down at her desk and waved him to one of the visitor's chairs. He sat down, his movements an echo of power and grace.
"I mean, why are you really here?” She drank more coffee, grateful for the flush of warmth it spread through her otherwise chilled system.
He raised a dark eyebrow. “As I said, I'm here to investigate the murder of a human on this reservation."
"And did you happen to tell your superiors that you were once involved with the chief ranger of said reservation?"
"Why should I?” His gaze met hers, and all she could see, all she could feel, was his cold, cold anger. The warm caring that had once attracted her to this man had long gone—if indeed it had ever actually existed. “You were nothing more than a means to an end, Vannah. A pleasant way to pass the time as I tried to catch a killer."
Though she'd long known the truth, his words still hurt. After all, she'd once cared for this man. Cared for him deeply. To discover it was all nothing more than lies had cut to the quick. Yet his lies were not the worst of his actions. Far from it.
She leaned back in her chair, and feigned a calm she didn't feel. “My name is Savannah. Kindly use it."
"Savannah,” he mocked. “Such a sweet name."
"So was the girl you knew as Vannah. You sure as hell cured her of that."
Something flashed in his eyes. Not anger, because that was there already, but something deeper, darker. “The girl I knew as Vannah put on a damn good show of being sweet, but time sure proved otherwise."
"Time?” She gave an unladylike snort. “We knew each other less than a month."
Which was time enough to think she was in love. Time enough to prove how bad a judge her heart could be.
"Sometimes a month is all it takes to prove how very wrong first impressions can be."
"How very true,” she said dryly. “So why don't we just drop the Happy Trails memory time and get down to business?"
"Suits me."
He crossed his legs, drawing her eye down the powerful line of his thigh and shin to the garish blue and red of his boots. A smile touched her lips. It seemed even the starched blue correctness of the IIS couldn't break his love of cowboy boots.
"Tell me about the murder."
Her gaze came back to his. “Everything is in the report, which I've no doubt you've read."
"I want your impressions."
"Really?” Bitterness crept into her voice. “And why would you want the opinion of a no good—what was the term you used that night? Whore? Strumpet?"
His face closed over. “I thought we were keeping this business?"
So they were. But it was harder than she'd thought it would be, especially when the warm mix of sage and tangerine touched the air, stirring her hormones as much as it did memories of the nights she'd spent in his arms, drinking in that same scent.