Page 22 of Trap ’N’ Trace

“You’re welcome.” A trickle of water ran down his face, and she realized his clothes were soaked from being outside in the rain. She’d been so self-absorbed, she hadn’t given a thought to his needs. “There’s a laundry room next door to yours if you’d like to wash and dry your clothes.”

“Thanks, maybe I will.” Panting had them both glancing to Remy and Angus. Remy’s tongue lolled from her mouth. The bigger dog appeared totally content to babysit the puppy. “He can stay down here tonight, if you like. I’ll take care of him if he needs to go out.”

When Dayne smiled her brain shorted out.

You need to answer him.

“I’ll take you up on that kind offer. I’m wiped out. I’m not sure I’d hear him once I get to sleep. Good night,” she managed.

“’Night.”

If he washed his clothes, would he sleep nude?

Stop it. He has absolutely no interest in you that way. Poor guy is just doing his job.

She fell into bed and winced when her sore shoulder hit the mattress. Tears threatened, and she blinked them away.

Two women had died.

Two men and their children had lost their loved ones.

And no one knew why.

I almost died. Her throat tightened but she wouldn’t allow herself to give in to the terror that had paralyzed her earlier.

She’d do whatever it took to help find the killer, so he could never hurt anyone again.

Chapter Seven

By eight a.m. the coffeepot was calling to Dayne.

He hosed off Remy and Angus’s feet, eager for another cup of Kat’s French frou-frou java. The early morning dog walk had done double duty, also giving him the opportunity to inspect the property in daylight and scrutinize the exterior of the castle for weaknesses. Of which there were a shitload.

During the walk down to the Haven for puppy kibble, he’d called Kade to give him the rundown on yesterday’s events and to get his friend’s take on installing a new security system. Kade had quickly grasped the need for exigency and promised to be at the castle in a couple of hours.

Before going back inside, he introduced himself to the outside replacement duty officer in the patrol car and notified the cop that Kat’s assistant and housekeeper would be arriving at nine o’clock. He gave the guy his cell number, along with strict instructions to check IDs and send him a text when anyone approached the house.

He dried the dogs’ feet then fed them in the kitchen. Aside from the sound of the dogs munching away, the castle was quiet. He took a hefty swig of coffee, shutting his eyes and savoring the deep, rich flavor. This shit was damn good.

Taking his mug with him, he headed for his servants’ quarters. He had just enough time to toss his clothes in the wash and grab a shower. After trekking around in the muddy woods for two days straight, his cargo pants and polo shirt were covered with mud splatter. Even he had to admit he and his clothes smelled like a herd of buffalo.

He stripped down then grabbed a towel from the bathroom and tied it around his waist. Quietly, he padded to the small laundry room and stuffed his clothes in the washing machine. Even the washer and dryer were top of the line and with enough buttons to fill a computer keyboard. When he pushed the quick wash button an LED lit up telling him the cycle would be done in fifteen minutes. Good thing or he’d be doing protection duty wearing nothing but a towel.

Back in his quarters, he cranked on the shower and when the glass door steamed up, tugged off the towel and stepped in. Resting his palms on the tile, he bowed his head, allowing the hot water to massage his neck and back, nearly groaning from sheer bliss.

This assignment was more stressful than he anticipated. Because it’s Becca. No, that wasn’t it. Not all of it, anyway. Maintaining professionalism was the cornerstone of his career, and his was being tested. Because he liked Kat. A little too much.

She could have been killed, and that bothered him more than he cared to admit. Not because she was a critical witness. Because she was…her, and that woman was more down to earth and gutsier than he’d expected. On top of that, the woman was stunning, right down to her toes. He doubted even a sex-deprived monk would be immune to her beauty.

He slapped the bar of soap back onto the ledge and squeezed out a gob of shampoo, rubbing it vigorously into his hair. Don’t even think it.

It was beyond ridiculous. He wasn’t for her, and she wasn’t for him. Under any circumstances. He wasn’t in the same solar system or even the same universe as the Katrina Vandenburgs of the world. But something had been brewing between them last night. Something intense and hot and…

His dick twitched, and he groaned.

Cold or no, she’d trembled at his touch, and her pulse had sped up. He’d had to stand in front of the open freezer to cool the fuck off. When he’d reached for one of the ice packs, he’d been tempted to grab two. One for her shoulder. One for the ache at his crotch. The only thing he could think of at that moment was putting physical distance between them.

No wonder he was still single. Smoothness where women were concerned was as elusive to him as a unicorn. Protecting her was what he should focus on.