and despairing.

"I don't want anything from you," she said. "I just want to help. Is it Henry?"

She saw his shoulders stiffen, frustration and tired despair slipping easily into anger. She felt a moment

of trepidation. She sensed she had stepped into something that wasn't going to be pretty. Suddenly, pressing him didn't seem like such a good idea after all. But she had never been afraid to face life's difficulties before.

"What is wrong, Ben?" she persisted. "You're chasing demons ... or they're chasing you, but I can't quite figure out exactly what those demons are."

He stared at her forever. "You want to know?" His tone was ominous.

"Yes, I want to know."

She realized then that without knowing it, they had been headed for this place since the day he came to stay with her.

"Why do you want to know?" he demanded.

"Because I know you're upset about Henry and you are trying to help his family. And while I think that's great, I don't think it's that simple."

He laughed, though the sound held no humor. "Simple?" The question was a sneer. "God," he groaned,

raking his hands through his hair, his eyes wild. "It could have been simple. All I had to do was answer the rucking phone."

"What?"

Ben looked her straight in the eye. "He called me that night."

"I don't understand."

"He called my apartment. I was off duty-nothing was in the works. When I heard his voice come over

the answering machine, I turned the volume down. Emergencies came over my cell phone. That night I wasn't interested in being disturbed by anything less than an emergency."

"Why?"

His chiseled features went cold and he looked her in the eye. "I didn't want to talk."

The look in his dark eyes changed from anger to predatory.

"Ben, really, tell me," she whispered. "Why didn't you answer the phone?"

Something snapped inside him. "Because I was screwing some woman I don't even remember." He laughed bitterly. "While my partner was getting his brains blown out in an alleyway, I was at home fucking my brains out. How's that for a cheap, sordid-ass story they'd show on some cheap, sordid-ass cable station?"

Her head spun and her heart hammered. "That's why you keep trying to find Henry's killer, half hoping you'll catch a bullet yourself." She blinked as a thought occurred to her. "That's how you got shot!"

He scoffed. But she knew that she had hit a nerve.

"Getting yourself killed isn't going to help Henry. Or his kids."

He pressed his eyes closed, and she could hardly believe the sheer vulnerability she saw in him. She walked over to him and placed her hand on his chest, her palm to his heart.

"You're okay," she whispered.

But she realized that he wasn't okay. He was tormented by a night he couldn't change.

He didn't move, didn't seem to breathe, though she could see grief shudder through his body.

His features grew ravaged, but his chin rose defiantly as an eternity passed.

"After the woman left," he continued ruthlessly, "I finally checked my machine. It was hours later. I

listened to Henry's message. 'Hey, Slash.' Then there was a long pause. I swear he went from a joking laugh to being choked up." He ran his hand over his face. "Henry was upset and said, I need to talk, man. If you're there, pick up.' I was there, but I had turned the volume down and didn't hear him- didn't want to hear him. When I called back, it was too late."

"You can't keep blaming yourself, Ben. We've all turned off our machines at one time or another."

He continued as if he hadn't heard her, his voice cold and void of feeling. "I called him back." His eyes

narrowed, then he pressed them closed for one brief second before he swore. "But he didn't answer this time. Another detective did and I knew something was wrong. When I asked for Henry, the guy told me Henry had been shot."

The words seemed to paralyze her. This man and his outward strength, never able to show how much he hurt inside. And she didn't have any idea how to make this better. How to fix what was wrong.

No new job, no new idea, no simple makeover was going to fix Ben Prescott.

She took his hand in hers. "You aren't really such a bad bad boy, are you, Benny the Slash? It's just a role you play to cover up how much you care."

His expression hardened, a wildness flaring. She hated to see him hurting, hated to see this strong man holding on by a thread. She wanted to hold him. Comfort him.

When she touched him, a shudder ran the length of his body. "Don't do this, Julia."

She curled her fingers into his shirt and pulled him to her. His moan was deep and savage, melting the anger away completely, leaving only despair. He started to push away.

"No, Ben." She held on with surprising strength.

She could feel the tension in him, the need not to give in-as if giving in made him weak.

"I know you would give your life for Henry if you could. But that doesn't solve anything. You're a good

man, and you can't spend the rest of your life trying to make up for someone else's mistake."

"You don't know what you're talking about. The day before he went into that alleyway alone, I asked to be reassigned."

He said the words with cold precision, as if they proved his guilt.

"I've seen how you don't put up with crap from anyone. And if you asked to be reassigned, then I'm

sure it was because Henry was on a dangerous course before the night he was killed. And no matter what you keep saying to yourself, Henry went into that alleyway alone. If you didn't answer the phone, he should have come by your apartment or called someone else."

She slipped her arms under his, embracing him. But he didn't give in. With her ear against his chest, she could hear his heart pounding hard. "It's not your fault, Ben."

He stood stiffly, his muscles so tight that it felt like he would snap. Then with a feral roar he gave in.

He wrapped her in his arms, crushing her to his chest, his control finally, completely broken.

They clung together, she trying to offer comfort, he absorbing what she had to give. They stood that way, lost in each other.

"You're a strong man who again and again tries to help others."

He scoffed, but he didn't let go.

"It's true. You helped your brother with The Catch. Keeping all the girls safe. And now dealing with

Henry's kids. But you won't give yourself a break."

Slowly, like he had no will of his own, he reached out and ran his thumb along her jaw. The simple touch sent sensation coursing through her. Then she reached up on her tiptoes and kissed him, kindly, gently. She felt his breath shudder through him. And everything changed.

Suddenly caring turned to heat, comfort turned to need, and he sought her mouth. They came together, their kiss instantly desperate, slanting in need.

"Julia," he breathed against her.

They kissed hungrily, his hands skimming over her body as if he couldn't believe she was really there. She couldn't believe it either, but in that second, she didn't care. Right or wrong, she had wanted this man since the day she first laid eyes on him. And just then, she didn't want to think about tomorrow, or even an hour later. All her good intentions were gone. Consequences weren't even a thought as his palms brushed over her nipples through her T-shirt.

"Damn," he said, his voice strained, defeated, as he cupped her fullness.

She cried out in a soft mewling sound at having him touch her after weeks of doing her best to keep him at a distance. She couldn't have stopped this path if she wanted.

They kissed again, as she tore impatiently at his shirt. In seconds it was gone and she ran her hands over the heat of his skin. She lost herself to the feel of him. When she did, desire erupted and he groaned into her mouth, half cry, half demand.

She moaned when his lips trailed back to her ear, the whisper of breath sending fire carving through him as he grazed a path to the delicate skin on her neck. He nipped and sucked, and she clutched him to her.

With one hand, he tilted her head so he could taste her more deeply as he pressed her body closer. His shaft swelled hard against her body, and she felt him shudder. They were both letting go in some way, each giving in. She had said she wouldn't have sex with him. He had said he would wait until she was ready. Neither of them was ready for this. Each was caught up in a tidal wave that carried them forward.

His hands cupped her round bottom, pulling her up against him, then he rolled his hips, his forehead pressing against hers, their lips only grazing together. Bending his knees, he pressed his erection low, then slowly rose to his full height, the sensation like sin itself.

"I want this." His voice was ragged. "I want you."

She should say no. She had promised herself that she wouldn't give in to sex without a meaningful relationship with a nice man. But she could hear his need whispering in her head like a rush of air, a need that matched her own.

"I want this, too," she answered truthfully.

He undressed her with reverence until she was naked. His eyes, already darkened from a friend's death, now darkened with sensual appreciation for her. She was moved in a way she didn't entirely understand.

He kissed the dips and curves of her body, lingering over her abdomen, nipping at the delicate skin of her navel. She kneeled with him and started tugging at the fastenings of his jeans.

"Take these off," she whispered.

His chuckle was grim as he stood. When he did, she pulled the jeans down his thighs, revealing the wound that was now covered with a large square bandage instead of the pads and tape. She hesitated for a second-, worried. But then he kicked his jeans away, and his erection pressed through his bright white Jockey shorts, his body hard and so strong. And she forgot about the bandage.

Passion and desire drumming through her, pushing her on, she slipped her fingers beneath the elastic band and pushed the Jockeys down around his ankles until he kicked those away, too.

"Julia," he said, his voice strained, his length jutting forward.

She kissed him in response, kissing him low on the abdomen as he had done to her. Then she kissed him along the hard length, his hands coming up to fist in her hair, his groan hoarse. And when she took him into her mouth, he cried out. She sucked him, palming and stroking. And everything became wild.

He pulled her up, taking her mouth savagely, desperately. They came together, fulfilling the promise their bodies had sensed since the day they met. He kissed her hungrily, as if he couldn't get enough. He lifted her, wrapping her legs around his waist.

Julia held on, and when his hands cupped her bottom, the tips of his fingers found the slippery heat between her legs. This time she cried out. He drew her body up, sliding her along his hard naked flesh, his body shuddering. He brought her so close to his velvety head, and just when she thought he would bring her down on him, he tore her away.

With a curse of need, he set her on her feet, then went over to the suitcase, which was still a jumble of unpacked clothes. He found what he was looking for. He ripped the condom package open with his teeth. The wetness between her thighs surged when she watched him roll the latex down his thick shaft.