Cole chuckled, though he felt none of the humor. "In the surrounding Clevel and area alone, that could be thousands."

"But they don't all have a pa.s.sion to drink blood."

"And the father does?"

"Who knows what anyone's capable of behind closed doors. Just follow every possible lead. If Nicholas Darby has any strange s.e.xual fantasies, I want t o know it."

Cole rose from his chair and headed for the door. "We all have our secrets.

They're just not front page news."

Detective Lead Suspect in Murder . The headline stared at Laurie from her des ktop. She sat at home in her den, shuffling through several articles from the paper, all dated around the time of the first story she had dug up.

The librarian had scanned the old papers, finding several stories linked to the first. Some had pictures of a younger, much harder, Cole Kincaid. It w as obvious he didn't like having his picture taken. One story spoke of an i ncident involving a photographer, suing Cole for a.s.sault and battery. Appar ently, Cole did not like the camera in his face and proved so by breaking t he poor man's nose. Laurie chuckled, touching the tip of her own nose. This man had one heck of a temper, which she had already seen firsthand.

Who was Cole Kincaid? The stories depicted him as a man who had murdered his wife out of jealousy. The poor woman had been beaten to death by some one's bare hands, and Cole sported incriminating injuries on his own hand s, making him a viable suspect. One article balked at Cole's claim he had been in a barroom brawl the night he found his wife murdered, the reason he had not been at home at the time. But no man had come forth to prove Cole's alibi.

One story in particular caught her attention: A Best Friend's Betrayal . La urie scanned the story, worrying her lower lip between her teeth. This stor y claimed the man to Cole's left in the picture on the paper had been sleep ing with Cole's wife. Charley Nash, fellow officer, good friend. And if the re be any truth to the story, Jeanne Kincaid's autopsy showed she had been two months pregnant. The story speculated as to the father of the baby, but neither Cole nor Charley would comment on the subject.

Laurie's heart ached as she held back the tears forming in her eyes. Dear G od, what this poor man had gone through. His face was plastered all over th e papers and his private life had become public knowledge. In the end, he h ad been acquitted of the crime, though most still deemed him guilty, even after they found the real murderer, a man Cole had put away years ago who ha d gotten out on probation the day before the murder. This man now served a life sentence without the possibility of parole.

But what good did the sentence do Cole Kincaid? His wife was dead, an unbo rn infant gone. Taken from him. Never again would he be able to hold her, love her, or see his child grow up.

From the pictures in the paper, Laurie could tell Mrs. Kincaid had been a b eautiful woman. Twenty-seven years old, blonde, with a stunning face and a promising career. She had just pa.s.sed the bar exam.

Laurie's heart lay heavy in her chest like a sopping wet towel, leaving her with the sudden need to see Cole, to comfort him, to tell him she had seen t he articles, but didn't believe the accusations. She did not believe Cole ki lled his wife any more than she believed Nicholas Darby had murdered his dau ghter. She could see the suspicion in Cole's eyes at the funeral as he glare d at Mr. Darby.

She grasped her purse and headed for the door, hoping if she hurried, she m ight catch him at the station. Memories of the Agora flooded her senses. Ju st the thought of being in his company again quickened her pulse and hamper ed her breathing. Her palms were actually sweating. She acted no better tha n a schoolgirl with a secret crush.

And of course, she would need an excuse as to why she sought his company, but there would be plenty of time on the way to City Hall to come up with one.

Her redAcura made its way down Lorain Road, the air-conditioning making the inside of the car much more bearable than the air outside. She tucked her ha ir behind her right ear and checked the rear-view mirror for remaining trace s of lipstick. Satisfied, she looked back to the road, just in time to see C ole heading from the parking lot of the station in a black Ford Ranger.

With no more than a glance in her car's direction, he pulled into the lane i n front of her and sped off. Laurie had to press on the accelerator to keep up with him. Surely cops were bound by the same rules as she, though by the gage on her speedometer, Cole Kincaid obviously did not think so.

His black Ranger traveled north on West 210 Street, following it to Fairvi ew Park's boundary, then took a left on Center Ridge Road where he turned into the Westgate House Apartments.

The black truck jumped to a halt. Cole exited, slammed the door, and walked to the front of the building, never once detecting he had been followed. S ome detective work , Laurie thought with a chuckle as she pulled her Acura up along side his truck.

She walked to the door she had seen Cole enter, paused, nearly having secon d thoughts, then tapped the bra.s.s knocker against the strike plate. Laurie made work of studying the cuticles on her hand as she nervously waited for the door to be answered.

With a slight grumble from the other side, the door opened to reveal a shirt less Cole Kincaid. Laurie gasped, unable to help herself. She didn't know wh at she expected, but certainly not a half-dressed man.

He wore a pair of black jeans, left unb.u.t.toned at the waist, riding low on his hips, giving a good view to his six-pack of abs and well-muscled chest.

Modesty was definitely not one of his strong points. Laurie blushed as she realized she had been gawking and brought her gaze to Cole's, who appeared unmoved by her once-over.

"Is there something you wanted?" He asked in a deep voice, further unnervin g her.

Yes, plenty , she thought but wisely kept it to herself. She cleared her thr oat and searched desperately for the viable excuse she had come up with, but of course she could not remember it now. "To, uh...discuss the case?"

"Taken to following your sources home now, have you?" he asked as he tur ned and walked away from the open door.

That's it? she wondered. No, come in, no request to follow . He had simply walked away, leaving the door open-the only invitation she would likely g et, she surmised. Undaunted, she followed him into the apartment and shut the door behind her.

She walked through the small foyer and into a kitchen where Cole stood at the center island, preparing a turkey sandwich on rye. He hadn't bothered to cover himself. He was obviously secure with his appearance even though Laurie wasn't. Her libido zipped into overdrive.

Finally, looking up from his work as he took a large butcher knife and cut the sandwich in two, he offered, "Would you like some?"

"Some?" Laurie asked, looking from the sandwich to his cool gaze. No, she w anted it all.

A sly grin appeared. He held up half of his sandwich. "Turkey?"

"Oh, no, thank you," Laurie laughed nervously. She had definitely gone beyon d pathetic. "I ate a salad earlier."

Cole took a large bite out of the sandwich, then had a seat on the counter b ehind him. He chewed for a short time, never once taking his gaze from her.

Laurie shifted from foot to foot, her insides nothing more than a pile of mu sh. She had crossed the line this time and Cole Kincaid knew it as he watche d her silently. Her best bet would be to politely excuse herself and make an appointment to see him the next day at the station.

As though he could read her thoughts, he jumped from the counter, causing h er heart to nearly leap from her chest as he walked around the island. He o pened the refrigerator door and withdrew a bottle of Miller Lite.

"Beer?" She took the offered bottle from his hand, thanking him, twisted the top and took a small pull from the bottle. His actions mimicked hers, though he kep t his gaze on her.

Palming his bottle, he held it close to his chest. "Now, do you want to tel l me why you really followed me home?"

"Who says I followed you?" Laurie challenged.

"You drive a red Acura, Integra GS. I spotted you the minute I pulled out of City Hall. You're hard to miss."

"Guilty." She grinned, looking to the floor, pushing her hair behind one ear.

All excuses fled her mind, leaving it as barren as the deserts. She opted for the truth, part of it anyway. Shrugging, she said, "I guess I just wanted to see you."

"So, now you see me," he said, undaunted by her confession. He took another swig from his bottle.

Her anger rose at his flippant att.i.tude as though she meant no more to him t han some distant relative who never took the time to stop by. She narrowed h er eyes at him and said, "I guess I do. I was a fool, thinking the truth mig ht mean something to you."

Laurie slammed her bottle on the surface of the counter, causing foam to rise above the lip, then turned to leave.

Cole watched Laurie grab her purse and stalk out of the kitchen. He knew he h ad angered her, and though it should not bother him, it did. h.e.l.l, he didn't want her interfering in his life at this point, but then he did not want her walking out of it either. She's a reporter , he reminded himself as he took t wo strides and grasped her arm, stopping her before she could get to the fron t door.

Laurie whirled on her heel and looked into his eyes. Her gaze held question s-ones he had no intention of answering.

"You're a piece of work, Kincaid."

He grinned. "That's not the first time I've been told that." The scent of he r perfume filled the small s.p.a.ce between them, stirring parts of his anatomy he would rather lay dormant. "Christ." He released her arm and walked back to the kitchen. He grabbed his beer and took a long drink.

"I should be going," she mumbled. He knew she didn't want to go any more than he wanted her to. d.a.m.n, he should throw caution to the wind and take her right here. What did he care if she had second thoughts come morning ? He sure in the h.e.l.l would not.

"Yeah," he chuckled, sounding cruel even to himself. "Maybe you should."

"Do you really hate me so much?" He heard the tears in her voice, knew wit hout looking her eyes glistened with them. "Stick around much longer and you might just find out the answer to that que stion."

"Do I want to know?"

"I don't know, Laurie," his voice came across husky as his jeans became in creasingly uncomfortable. Much more and it would be evident to her as well . d.a.m.n himself for not taking advantage of all the women in his past who h ad freely offered. He had waited too long. "Do you?"

She walked up behind him, stood precariously close. He felt her heat against his bare skin, felt her breath against his back. The desire to have her raged within him. He clenched and unclenched his fists as he steeled his senses, n ot wanting to turn around, to allow her to see the raw hunger in the depths o f his eyes.

Her small hand touched his shoulder blade, causing him to flinch as though someone had branded him with a red-hot iron. He tilted back his head, looki ng at the ceiling. No longer could he take the torment-no longer did he wan t to.

He turned on her so quickly, she squealed as she jumped back. Cole gave her no room to run, no s.p.a.ce to breathe as he advanced on her until the wall b ehind her kept her from fleeing.

Her gaze darted back and forth, as she seemingly lost her voice. Her breath c ame in short pants; her thundering pulse evident at the base of her throat.

Bracing one hand on the side of her head, he reached out with the other to t race the column of her neck with his finger, wanting to follow the same path with his tongue. G.o.d, he wanted her.

She closed her eyes and tilted her head in silent surrender. Cole brought his mouth within millimeters of her neck, his lips grazing the surface. He heard h er intake of breath, felt her pulse hasten.

"Still want to know?" he breathed.

"Want to know what?" she whispered, barely audible.

His tongue darted out, testing her skin's silken surface, tasting of the light salt gathering there. "Whether I hate you or not."

"Do you?" she asked, sounding as though she had run a mile. His mouth foun d her ear.

He whispered, "I wish I could."

Laurie could hardly find the strength to stand as Cole traced the line of he r jaw with his tongue. Her mind raced as she tried to come up with reasons w hy she should not be doing this-why she should not follow him to the bed. Bu t nothing was stronger than the desire to have this man, to take him deep in side her.

His hot lips captured her mouth, stealing any objection she might come up wit h, leaving her without a breath. Her hands traveled up his chest, resting above his heart, feeling its heavy beat. The contact of his bare skin only fuele d her aspiration, rendering her thoughtless.

Cole's tongue traced the pliable line of her mouth, gaining an easy entrance as it prodded and coaxed her into a response. His hands grasped the sides o f her face, holding her close, withdrawing only long enough to leave her gas ping for more.

Cole leaned into her, his body resting flush against hers as he pinned her to the wall. His erection lay against her abdomen, telling her of his own hunge r. The thought of him desiring her fueled her actions as her hand traveled to his hair.

"G.o.d," she breathed, barely above a whisper.

One of his hands grasped the hair at her nape as the other made its way down her side, grazing the side of her breast, before coming to rest on the small of her spine, holding her against him.

"Cole," she whispered, needing to tell him she understood his past-wanting h im to believe she trusted in his innocence. She wanted no mistrusts between t hem. She had to confess her digging into his past. After all, hadn't that bee n her reasoning in coming here in the first place? If he should find out late r...

"Now is the not the time, Laurie." His lips returned to her neck.

"No, I must tell you," she breathed. "Oh, G.o.d, I must make you understand.

"I understand that we want each other, and right now that's all I need to kn ow." His lips traveled down her neck to the swell of cleavage above the low neckline of her blouse. Her hands tightened in his hair as he drew her more flush against him.

"No," she whispered. "The papers."

"I don't want to discuss the case, Laurie." He chuckled; his warm breath floa ted over her skin like a feather in the hot August heat.

"Not this case," she continued. "The past case on you."

His lips ceased as she felt his body stiffen against her, no longer plying her with hot kisses-in fact, he was not moving at all.

"What case?" His voice rang sharp, but controlled, like the finely honed edg e on a sword centuries old.

"I dug up some old clippings." She treaded cautiously, testing the waters be fore jumping in full body.

Cole stepped back, his eyes black and fathomless as he stared down at her.

Though mere inches separated their bodies, it could have been the Grand Can yon for all the warmth she felt now.

"What are you talking about?" Cole's mouth curled like a dog backed into a corner. A shiver ran down her spine, turning what was once hot to cold.

"I found some clippings of you when you were in Cleveland." The grip he had on her hair at the base of her neck tightened. She pleaded, "Please, Cole.

Let go of me. I'm sorry."

"You had no right." He tilted back her head and glared into her eyes so she could not mistake the malicious turn his mood had taken. "I want you to get the h.e.l.l out of my apartment and the h.e.l.l out of my life."

"You can't mean-"

He released her so suddenly, Laurie nearly collapsed to the floor as she wa tched him walk away from her, face tilted downward.

He chuckled menacingly, shaking his head. "I should have known better. You 're a reporter first. A human second."

"Cole-"

He whirled around, fixing her to the wall with his glare as soundly as he he ld her there by his hands moments ago. "Get out!"

"You have to understand, I only meant-"

"You meant to dig up my past. Am I right, Miss Michaels? " When she did no t answer, he repeated, "Am I right?" so loudly, she nearly jumped out of h er skin.