Dusk Til Dawn Page 4

  “I got it. Trust me.”

  “Never doubted you.”

  Avery headed for the door, not glancing back as Dylan paused to take one last look at the patch of floor where more than just glass had shattered into pieces. He was about to cross into alien territory, and the ghost had nothing to do with it.

  Chapter Three

  Annie sat in the passenger seat, watching the rain splatter across the windshield as they headed toward the city, leaving the cloud-covered hills behind them. The storm that had been threatening earlier had finally hit just as they’d made their way to Dylan’s Jeep, the rumble of thunder and jagged bolts of lightning preceding the sudden downpour. Avery had tossed a bag of equipment into the backseat then waved them off, promising to call his brother as soon as he and Temperance had completed their investigation.

  Dylan had grumbled a reply, making sure Annie had fastened her seatbelt before tearing down the street, kicking up a spray of water as he skidded around a corner and headed down the hill. He hadn’t said more than a token word or two since, and the increasing silence was starting to grate on her nerves. She cursed under her breath and glanced out at the passing scenery, watching it blur past, the various colors washing into a dull gray. The earthy smell of rain clung to the leather jacket still wrapped around her shoulders, mixed with a spicy essence she guessed was Dylan.

  She groaned inwardly. Even his scent turned her on, which was the real problem. The last thing she needed was to spend the next day or two with a man who affected her on more levels than she thought possible. It was bad enough the rugged beauty of him stole her breath, but drinking in his alluring aroma while sitting no more than two feet away was sheer torture. She’d tried to distract herself with a casual inspection of the contents of his Jeep, but it only added to the mystery, and she found herself staring at him again, trying to puzzle out the man beneath the facade.

  His eyes shifted toward her, one half of his mouth lifting into a grin. “Something on your mind, Annie?”

  His gravelly voice sent fingers of awareness shooting down her spine, making her stomach flutter with desire. Though she’d had a few lovers in her time, she’d never reacted with such primal need before, and she found the revelation unnerving.

  She forced herself to swallow, not wanting him to sense her growing attraction. “Just wondering if you were planning on having us travel the entire way in an uncomfortable silence, or if you’d consider turning on the radio as an acceptable buffer.”

  Dylan sighed, running one hand through his hair, tousling the long strands about his head. “Sorry. I broke the damn thing a week ago. Been meaning to get it fixed, but…” He turned to look at her this time, those blue eyes studying her as if he saw something more than he had just moments before. “Why don’t you tell me more about yourself?”

  She chuckled. “I’m afraid there’s not much to tell. I’m not nearly as exciting as my sister.”

  “Why? Because you don’t hunt ghosts? That’s a plus in my books.” He gave her a stunning smile. “If you don’t read minds, either, you’ll have Avery beat, as well.”

  “I don’t read minds.”

  He nodded. “So what do you do since you’re obviously not out hunting ghosts and reading people’s palms? And why were you at that house if you’re not involved in your sister’s line of work?”

  “I went because I wanted to get a better understanding of what they do. Try to get a handle on the whole ghost thing.”

  He glanced at her again. “So what she said was true. You don’t believe in ghosts.”

  “I didn’t used to. Now…”

  He nodded then focused on the road as if it held the answers to all the questions she could see crinkling his brow. “But you’re considering otherwise.”

  “Aren’t you?”

  He shrugged. “I’ll admit. It’s harder than hell to make sense of, but…” He pounded a fist on the steering wheel. “Honestly, I don’t know. It sure looked real.” He sighed. “So you never answered my question? What exactly do you do when you’re not parading around in only a bra?”

  She looked away when his gaze slid down her body, pausing at the upper swell of her breasts peeking out between the open sides of his jacket. She’d forgotten to grab Avery’s shirt in the rush to beat the storm, relying on Dylan’s jacket to keep her warm until she got home.

  She took a deep breath, meeting his gaze. “I have a PhD in behavioral psychology. I work out of my own clinic and do guest lectures at Berkeley.”

  His eyes widened for a moment before he laughed. “PhD in psychology, huh? Figures. Damn, I must have the worst luck ever.”

  She huffed. “What’s wrong with what I do?”

  “Nothing, though it does mean you lied to me.”

  A frown tugged at the corners of her mouth. “I never lied to you.”

  “You said you didn’t read minds.”

  “I don’t!”

  He shot her a heated glance. “Correct me if I’m wrong, but you get inside people’s heads. That’s basically the same thing.”

  “I don’t get inside someone’s head. I make educated deductions based on what they tell me. That’s completely different.”

  He turned to stare at her as he stopped for a red light. “If you only went on what your patients told you, you wouldn’t get that far.”

  “Okay, so maybe I observe behavior, as well. It’s still not the same as reading someone’s mind.”

  He snorted. “Observe. That’s shrink talk for pry. Face it. You get inside their head and pick it apart.”

  Annie crossed her arms on her chest. “What’s wrong, tough guy? Afraid I’ll pick your head apart?”

  Something flashed in his eyes, but he turned as the light changed. “Trust me, honey. That isn’t a place you want to go. Even Av keeps his distance.”

  The wounded edge to his voice staked through her heart, and she had to stop herself from reaching out and touching his arm. His demeanor had changed instantly, and she couldn’t help but feel responsible.

  She lowered her gaze, thinking of a way to change the subject. “What about you, then?”

  His eyes narrowed as he slid his glance her way. “What about me?”

  “What do you do?”

  “Avery already let that slip.”

  “Not really. He merely hinted at things.”

  The muscle in his jaw flexed. “What do you think I do?”

  Her breath caught. It sounded like a challenge, but she wasn’t sure whether to take the bait. “That’s a loaded question, Dylan. One I’m not prepared to answer, not when we have to spend the foreseeable future together. I don’t need you glaring at me the entire time because you think I’m constantly ‘picking your head apart’.”

  “Whether I think it or not won’t change the fact that you will be.” He graced her with a genuine smile. “Occupational hazard, I suppose. Go on, doc. I know you’re itching to.”

  “I’m not that kind of doctor.”

  “But a doctor none the less.” He winked at her. “I insist. Give it your best shot.”

  There was no mistaking the challenge he’d issued this time, or the slightly mocking tone in his voice. He didn’t think she could read him, despite his comments to the contrary.

  Her stubborn streak pushed to the surface, and she crossed her arms on her chest again. “Fine. You want my ‘best shot’? I’m game. But there’s no crying foul when I’m done.”

  He smirked. “You’re that confident, are you?”

  “You be the judge.”

  She cleared her throat, reminding herself to tread gently when he winked at her. The cocky gesture unhinged her usual inhibitions, and she pushed her shoulders back, meeting his challenge head-on.

  “Based on the snippets of conversation between you and Avery, I’m betting you’re ex-military. Special Forces to be exact, which accounts for your incredibly fast reflexes and the easy way in which you handle close contact. I would have guessed SEAL, but what I can see of that tattoo on your b
iceps suggests you were part of one of the Delta teams. Hardcore to the extreme, you’re physical, in every aspect of the word. But something made you resign. The same something that keeps those walls around you firmly intact.”

  She nodded at the center console of his Jeep, knowing she should stop but unable to keep the words from tumbling free. “That’s a badge. SFPD, which accounts for the concealed weapon. I thought you might be a detective, based on your take-charge attitude, but there’s a SWAT duffle bag in your backseat, which is really more in-line with being a risk-taker. You’re not wearing a ring, probably because you haven’t stayed with the same woman long enough to let her see beyond those walls I mentioned. And you hate that the very fabric of your beliefs is being challenged, especially when it mocks everything that’s kept you alive through several missions, if those scars on your arms are any indication. I suspect you have more elsewhere, though it’s the ones you can’t see that are the most painful—and the most telling.”

  Annie drew a deep breath, silently cursing her impetuous tongue. She hadn’t meant to be so revealing, but damn the man was infuriating. Looking at her as if she was nothing more than a freak-show charlatan. It’d taken her years to overcome the predisposed ideas regarding her profession, and despite popular opinion, she dealt in pure science.

  Dylan clenched his jaw, focusing back on the road as he turned down another street. He seemed intent on staring out the window before he sighed and spared her a quick glance. “Are you always that…direct?”

  When she just glared at him, he muttered something under his breath before glancing at her again.

  “I suppose I deserved it.”

  “You did.”

  She tilted her head, admiring the deep blue of his eyes and the way his hair teased his brow. He was more than handsome, and the heat from earlier returned, making her shift uncomfortably in her seat. She glanced away for a moment. She’d been right about the walls, and she doubted he’d lower them, especially for someone like her. She was fairly certain his romantic encounters were light on the romance and heavy on the sex, not that she didn’t feel that way about him. Hell, his smile alone bordered on foreplay, but she’d never done one-night stands well. In the end, someone always ended up caring just a bit more…and that led to nothing but pain.

  She pushed the sense of disappointment aside, studying his face again. “So? Are you going to tell me how I did?”

  He didn’t meet her eyes this time. “Better than you should have. Didn’t realize I was that much of an open book.”

  “Or maybe I’m just good at what I do.”

  He chuckled. “Somehow that thought is even more frightening.” He cut her a quick smile. “I’m impressed you noticed the tattoo. Most folks wouldn’t know what it meant if they saw it under normal conditions. Half-hidden beneath my sleeve…makes me think I might not be the first ex-soldier you’ve met.”

  “No. Not the first, though I don’t pretend to have a firm grasp of what most of you have faced. Security and the like, I usually get only a version of the truth.”

  He turned his head this time. “Isn’t that what everything boils down to…the version you’ve worked up inside your head?”

  She smiled. “That’s very deep for a ‘man of action’.”

  “I’ve got to have something to appease the department psychiatrists.”

  “Right. Wouldn’t be wise to burden them with how you really feel.”

  “Man, you sure are one feisty wildcat.” He pulled into a driveway and turned off the car. “Okay. Here we are.”

  She startled, looking from the darkened door back to him. “This isn’t my house. I thought you were taking me home?”

  “I did…just happens to be mine.” He silenced any further protest with a warm finger across her lips. “Just humor me until we find out a bit more information. I’m sure it’s no surprise to you that’d I’d prefer a location I’m familiar with if there’s any possibility we might run into some trouble. And I promise I won’t tackle you to the floor again.” He smiled then winked at her again. “Not unless you want me to.”

  Annie feigned annoyance as she followed him out of the car, ignoring the sudden surge of anticipation that rolled through her gut. He’d already made his intentions clear—his only interest revolved around his sense of responsibility and honor. Avery had obviously told his brother to keep his wife’s little sister safe, and Annie had no doubt Dylan would go to extreme lengths to uphold that promise.

  Keys jingled in his hands as he sorted through them, finally placing one between his fingers. He glanced at her over his shoulder as if ensuring she hadn’t disappeared on him then unlocked the door, swinging it open. Glare from the street illuminated a wedge of hardwood floor, casting the rest of the room in shadows. She stepped inside, blinking when Dylan flicked a switch, instantly bathing the area in a wash of bright light.

  The doorway entered into an open room accentuated by a small scattering of furniture. The usual fare dominated the space, though the leather couch looked as if it’d hardly been used. A large screen television hung on the far wall, a layer of dust coating the sleek black surface. She toed off her boots then turned as he closed the door, raising a brow in question.

  He frowned, glancing around the place. “I know. Probably not what you were expecting considering my family has money.”

  “It’s not that. I’ve always preferred simplicity over extravagance. It’s quite nice. I was just wondering if you really lived here, or if it was some sort of getaway place.”

  “What makes you think I don’t live here?”

  She flashed him a knowing grin. “It’s tidy.” She wrinkled her brow as she waved her hand at the room. “Disturbingly tidy.”

  “Maybe I have a maid.”

  “Or maybe you don’t spend much time here. Like hardly any.”

  He studied her for a moment then closed the small amount of distance between them as he backed her against a wall. His chest knocked into hers as he palmed his hands on either side of her head, his gaze never leaving hers. “Is your spidey sense telling you I’m not the ‘disturbingly tidy’ sort of guy?”

  She suspected he’d intended the comment to come across as sarcastic, but the raspy tones only made her nipples bead into tight peaks beneath his jacket as a warm wet feeling spread along her cleft. The spicy scent of his cologne tickled her senses, dimming her vision slightly at the edges. Her sister hadn’t been joking when she’d labeled him an alpha male. He was that and more.

  Annie managed a shallow breath, praying he didn’t feel the effect he had on her as her chest brushed his again. “If you were that kind of guy, there wouldn’t be a fine layer of dust on everything. That pretty much kills the maid theory, too.”

  His focus dropped to her mouth, and she couldn’t stop the slow swipe of her tongue across her lips. His pupils dilated, hiding the stunning blue behind large black disks as he drew a deep breath, clenching his jaw as if her scent affected him. God, when had a man ever looked at her like that?

  Something akin to a growl vibrated through his chest, sending tiny tendrils of arousal straight to the tight knot coiling low in her belly. He leaned in closer, a rough exhalation of breath washing across her neck.

  “Are you always this annoyingly correct?” His voice curled around her, adding to the heat already suffusing her body.

  Shit, she could climax from that sound alone. Annie pursed her lips together, gathering back her composure. “What did you call it before? Occupational hazard?”

  He smiled, a brilliant flash of white amidst his pink lips. “You’re dangerous, honey.” He eased away, but not before brushing his mouth along the edge of her jaw. “I’m thinking you’d like to shower before we discuss what happened tonight?”

  She felt his departure as a physical blow to her body. An empty feeling settled in her chest, and she fought the urge to grab his shirt and pull him back against her. “While some may find the overwhelming stench of kerosene alluring, I’d be happy just to smell normal.
”

  “I think that can be arranged.” He gave her body one last long glance then headed down a hallway, motioning her to follow him.

  He took a set of stairs then turned left and continued to the room at the end of another corridor. He didn’t glance back as he opened the door and walked inside, disappearing off to the left. Annie paused at the threshold and peered inside. A large wooden bed dominated the space, centered along the back wall. A set of drawers had been positioned beneath a window on her right, and a shag-type throw rug covered most of the hardwood.

  She took a tentative step inside. She’d assumed he’d take her to a guest room, or at the least a main bathroom, and wasn’t quite prepared at being led to the master suite. Though she had to admit, it suited him. Dark colors and strong patterns reflected his larger-than-life persona and the gray tint to the walls fitted with his alpha tendencies.

  She walked inside his room, noticing the row of pictures along the top of the dresser and the folded flag lying in a box in the corner of the room. A set of fatigues had been stacked next to it, the same design as his tattoo stitched on the front. Water splashed behind a doorway on her left as she ambled over to the dresser, studying the black and white prints. A group of men huddled together, their mud-splattered faces radiant despite the exhaustion mirrored in their eyes. She smiled as she traced Dylan’s form with the pad of one finger. He looked slightly younger and leaner but carried the same haunting expression.

  “That’s my old unit.”

  She jumped at the sound of his voice and turned, her hand fisted against her chest. He leaned against the doorframe to what she suspected was a washroom, his broad shoulders taking up most of the space. His hands were shoved into his pockets as he watched her from below a line of thick lashes.