“I have a right to protect my sources,” Jessica Daly told the two scowling men who were currently standing in front of her the morning after her big story broke on the evening news. “I’m not telling you where I got my information from. But it’s obvious by your visit and the looks on your faces that my source was right on the money. If you’re telling me some of my information is wrong, I’d be willing to correct it in my next broadcast. How about giving me an interview?” She sat down at the table in the conference room she had brought them to for privacy. Making a show of crossing her shapely legs, she looked at both men expectantly.

Sean had been angry before he and Lynch had arrived at the Channel 4 news station, but now he was downright pissed. The reporter was actually flirting with them. Did she really think they’d be willing to give her a fucking interview? Not in this fucking lifetime, he said to himself, or the next. The woman was a leech like most people in her profession. She didn’t care how many victims were killed or families devastated as long as the story was juicy enough to boost the ratings and her career.

“Not going to happen,” Lynch responded. “And if you and your source are the cause of this guy getting away with murder, you’ll be charged with obstruction of justice.”

“It would never stick, and you know it,” Jessica replied confidently. “Besides, the public deserves to know how sadistic this creep is.”

Sean ran a hand down his face in frustration. They were getting nowhere with the reporter, but he could at least get a little revenge against her. He crossed his arms and glared at her with all the anger he felt. “As of right now, your privileges at the press conferences regarding this case are revoked. I see you on Sheriff Department property, you’ll be charged with trespassing. Understand?”

She sat up, her eyes flashing with fury and disbelief. “You can’t do that!”

Brad looked at her squarely and smirked. “He can and just did. Consider this your first and final warning.”

* * *

The two men stormed out as Jessica was still sputtering in disbelief. How dare they? Over her fucking, dead body was she handing this story over to anyone else. She would just have to find a way to stay ahead of everyone. Her sources would help, but she needed to do some more digging.

Still fuming, she returned to her desk just as the mailroom clerk was leaving a thick stack of white and manila envelopes for her. Quickly sorting through her morning mail, she tossed aside most of the correspondence to open later. Three quarters of the way through the pile she stopped and stared at the stark, white envelope with childlike writing on it addressed to Jessica Daly, Reporter—OPEN IMMEDIATELY—IMPORTANT.

Jessica picked up the letter and dropped the rest of the mail on her desk. Turning the envelope over, she found no other writing, no return address, no mailing address, and no stamp. It had not come through the post office—someone had hand delivered it. Taking her silver letter opener from the top drawer of the desk, she gently slid it under the flap of the envelope and sliced it open. It only contained one piece of paper, which she removed and unfolded.

Whoever sent the letter obviously watched too many cop shows on TV. He or she had cut words out of a newspaper and glued them to the page.

If you want the exclusive of a lifetime, come to 1279 Prescott Road in Elizabeth City at eleven o’clock tonight. Come alone and bring your video camera. I know who the Seaside Strangler is and have proof.

Holy shit! Breaking this case wide open for the cops and feds would get her on a national news team in a heartbeat. Pushing the rest of her mail aside, she opened up a new document on her computer and started typing the preliminary article. She’d add in the details later.

* * *

Sean’s feet pounded the asphalt as he ran through the streets of Whisper. It had been just after three o’clock in the afternoon when he’d returned to the beach house and decided to get some exercise. He did his best thinking while running and today he had a lot on his mind. Suki had finished her profile and returned to Quantico at around 11:00 a.m. Sean and the detectives had followed up on a few leads from the tip line, which turned out to be dead ends. Before he left the station, he’d updated both Griffin and his SAC in Greenville. The story was now national news and everyone was using Jessica Daly’s moniker for the killer—“The Seaside Strangler.” God, he fucking hated the press.

As he jogged at a comfortable pace his mind wandered to the night before. Following the newscast, he had been very subdued, his mind racing over the details of the case. They obviously had a huge leak at the sheriff’s department, and he wondered how Jessica Daly’s reporting of sensitive details of the crimes would affect the investigation. He was aware he could have been more hospitable to his guests, but the two women found many topics to discuss between them during dinner. He hoped their chatter had prevented his silence from becoming an issue.

After dinner with the two women, he’d held Grace’s hand as they walked to her car, parked in the street in front of the cottage. As he opened the door to her tan, Toyota Solara convertible for her, he’d apologized.

“Sorry I wasn’t good company tonight. That newscast threw me for a loop. It’s really going to be a bloody mess at headquarters tomorrow.”

Instead of climbing into her car, Grace stopped next to Sean and placed her hand on his chest in a comforting gesture. “Don’t worry, I understand. Do you have any idea where the reporter’s getting her information?”

Sean sighed and absentmindedly ran his hand up and down her arm. “It has to be someone in the sheriff’s department, but that’s Matt Griffin’s problem. My problem is how the killer’s going to react to all of this.” He paused, then smiled. “But let’s not talk about that now. You and Suki seemed to get along.”

“We did,” Grace said, her demeanor suddenly lighter at the change of subject. “She’s a lot of fun. I really like her.” As she spoke, her hand caressed his chest in small, tantalizing motions, which heated his blood to a near boil—which then went straight to his cock.

“I’m glad to hear that,” he murmured. His eyes left hers and zoomed in on her lush mouth. All thoughts of serial killers and coworkers immediately leaving his mind only to be replaced by images of the erotic dream he’d had that morning. Closing what little distance there was between them, Sean lowered his head and brushed his lips against hers. Sparks ignited and he’d let out a deep groan as she kissed him back with a sensual urgency that caught him by surprise. She slid her hands up his chest to wrap around his neck as he silently urged her lips open with his tongue. Grace obliged and he was instantly lost in the taste of her.

Sean took a step forward, compelling Grace to step back, and pinned her against the rear door of her car. He nibbled gently on her bottom lip before flicking his tongue over the same tender spot. From there his lips moved along her jawline to the sensitive spot just below her left ear. She tilted her head back, allowing him better access for nuzzling her neck. He paused over the pulsating vein on the side of her throat and felt its tempo speed up as he made slow lazy circles with his tongue over the spot. She gasped and his cock grew under the zipper of his jeans. As her hands moved up to tangle in his hair, his inched south down her sides until they reached her hips. Grinding his against hers, he wished they were somewhere they could get naked and do wild, naughty things to each other—things he’d been dreaming of since she’d first walked back into his life. He was just about to cup her buttocks and lift her up so her legs could wrap around his waist when a car approached. They were illuminated by headlights and the driver honked his horn at them as he drove past. The sound startled them and they jumped apart, panting from the experience which left them both wanting more.

Sean took several gulps of the cool night air and tried to bring his breathing and hard-on under control. “I guess that was the driver’s way of saying ‘get a room.’”

Grace chuckled as she tried to steady her own breathing. “Nothing like . . . making out . . . like a couple of teenagers . . . in the middle of the street, huh?”

“Actually, I can think of a lot better places to be making out.” He waggled his eyebrows several times, making her laugh at his antics. Sean’s heart skipped a beat. He’d just discovered there was no sound in the world more melodious than Grace Whitman’s laugh. Abruptly, he sobered. “Can we go out on a date?”

“A date?” Grace looked at him with surprise. “As in a date-date?”

“Yeah, a date-date. We’ve had dinner together four times and not once has it been a real date. So, can we?”

Sean stared at Grace nervously and wondered what he would do if she said no. He’d beg, that’s what he’d do. For the first time in his life he was ready to beg a woman for a date. Thankfully, he didn’t have to. His heart skipped another beat when she gave him a shy smile and said, “I’d like that.”

“So would I. How about tomorrow?” he blurted out, but his excitement disappeared as reality rudely intruded, and he grimaced. “Shit. I can’t really make plans because of the case. I might be available tomorrow and I might not. I’m not sure—”

Grace brought her fingers up to his mouth and silenced him. “It’s okay. If you have to cancel, I’ll understand.”

Sean kissed her fingers before moving her hand away from his lips. “Hopefully it won’t come to that. I’ll call you tomorrow around two. By then, I should have a better idea of what’s going on. Is that okay?”

“It’s fine.” When he didn’t respond, she added, “I swear. If you can’t make it, there’s always the weekend.”

“Such an optimist.” He smiled, dipped his head and gave her a quick kiss on the lips before taking a step back to let her climb into her car. He knew if he did anything more than that they’d end up really needing a room. “I’ll talk to you tomorrow then.”

“Great.” She folded herself into the driver’s seat. The convertible top was up due to a passing shower earlier. She pulled on her seatbelt and started her car as he reluctantly closed the door for her. He suddenly thought of something, tapped on the window, and gestured with his hand for her to roll it down.

“Do me a favor and call when you get home,” he pleaded. “With this nutcase running around, I’d feel better knowing you were safe behind locked doors.”

She nodded, said goodnight, and drove away. Sean watched the car’s taillights until they were out of sight. He smiled and told himself moving back home was one of the best decisions he’d ever made.

Now, as he finished his run, he realized that not once during the five mile trek had he thought about the case or that pain-in-the-ass reporter who had pissed the hell out of him this morning. Grace occupied his mind more than any other women he’d ever known. And tonight they were going on a date. His body immediately reacted to the thought, and blood raced to his groin in anticipation. Shit. Maybe he should run another five miles and then take a fucking, cold shower. The sexual lust and energy which filled him every time he thought of her was driving him crazy. He didn’t want to rush her into a physical relationship if she wasn’t ready, but he hoped she was. He also knew, deep down in his heart and soul, that one night with Grace Whitman would never be enough.

* * *

Grace changed her clothes for the seventh time. She wanted to knock Sean’s socks off, but nothing in her closet was exactly what she was looking for. She took off the burgundy skirt she was wearing and threw it onto the bed, adding to the growing pile of discarded outfits. A little meow caught her attention and she looked over at the one-year-old cat laying on one of the bed pillows. Even though things now appeared to be moving in the right direction for Sean and her, Grace had kept her promise to herself earlier in the day.

After breakfast and running a few errands for her business, she’d gone to the local animal shelter and adopted a beautiful, velvety, grey feline. There had been so many cats and kittens to choose from, but this little guy had grabbed her heart when he immediately nuzzled up to, and then head-butted, her hand. The staff told her his owner had died recently and there was no one willing to take him in, so he’d been dropped off at the shelter. Grace had changed that in an instant. A quick trip to the local pet store had garnered a litter box, carrying crate, scratching post, food, water bowl, and toys. An hour later, Grace’s new little friend had been fed and was purring with contentment on her king-sized bed.

She reached over to scratch the animal’s ears. “Get used to it, Rico. Your new mommy is a fashionista at heart.”

She giggled as she thought of the night before. The look on Sean’s face was so hopeful when he’d asked her out, Grace couldn’t have turned him down even if she’d wanted to. And she definitely hadn’t wanted to. When he’d said “real date,” her heart had skipped a few beats and she couldn’t believe what she’d heard. Sean Malone had asked her out on a date! She wished she still kept a diary like she did during her early teenage years. That very moment would have filled up at least ten pages.

Turning back to her closet, a flash of teal silk at the rear of the rack caught her eye. Perfect! She’d forgotten all about the dress. Her former coworker, Trish, had convinced her to buy the dress for a hospital Christmas party two years ago in New York. Trish had told her it was made for Grace’s body, and would drive men crazy. The just-above-the-knee length showed off her long legs and cutouts bared her toned shoulders before the luxurious material flowed gently down her arms and torso. Grace had to admit Trish had been right—she’d definitely garnered quite a bit of male appreciation that night.

She held the dress up to her body and turned to face the bed. “What do you think, Rico? Will he like this one?”

The animal continued to purr and flipped over on his back, paws in the air, tail swishing.

“You’re absolutely right. It’s drop-dead gorgeous. He’ll love it.”

Slipping the silken material over her head and down her body, she glanced into the full-length mirror on the back of the closet door and knew for certain this was the right dress. She finished off the outfit with a simple, silver necklace, matching earrings, and the silver-toned high heels she’d originally bought with the dress. Her long, blonde hair was swept upward and softly held in place by a rhinestone clip. She spritzed a little of her favorite perfume on her exposed neck and wrists and took one last look in her mirror. She hoped she looked as good as she thought she did. If this outfit didn’t bring Sean Malone to his knees, nothing would.

A knock on the door interrupted her assessment and she glanced at the clock next to her bed. Six thirty on the nose. Sean was on time, but Grace still needed to throw a few necessities into a small purse. Instead of keeping him waiting, she ran to the front door to let him in.

“Hi, I’m almost ready . . . ,” she said in a rush before her voice trailed off as she focused on him. He looked gorgeous standing there in a button-down, tan shirt, black trousers and black dress shoes, spit shined to a high gloss. He’d shaved and gotten his hair trimmed, but the lock of hair, which always found itself falling just above his left eyebrow, was still there. She loved that lock of hair—it gave an impish look to his face. And, oh, his eyes—those mocha eyes were now wide with appreciation and a hint of something else—desire.

* * *

Sean’s mouth went dry and he found himself struggling to swallow. He knew Grace was a beautiful woman but—holy fuck—she was the sexiest woman he’d ever seen in that blue-green dress. He wished he had more than two eyes at that moment because he couldn’t decide where to look first. Her legs went on for miles, ending in the sexiest high heels he’d ever seen on a woman. The shapely curves of her breasts and hips were perfect, and he was dying to taste the satiny skin of her exposed shoulders. All of a sudden, he didn’t want to take her out to dinner, he just wanted to take her to bed. He didn’t want any other man looking at her—he wanted that privilege all to himself. It was selfish, he knew, but he couldn’t stop the feelings racing through his body, straight to his dick.

He didn’t know how much time had passed before he found his voice. “Hi . . . wow . . . hi . . . um, wow . . .” Okay, he may have found his voice, but formulating a sentence seemed beyond his mouth and brain’s abilities at the moment. He cleared his throat and tried again. “You look beautiful.”

“Thanks. You’re looking very handsome yourself.” Grace blushed under his continued scrutiny. If she had wanted to impress and seduce him, then she’d definitely succeeded. He wanted to have her for dinner instead of food. Inhaling deeply to get oxygen to his foggy brain he entered the foyer when she stepped to the side to let him in.

Turning around, she hurried toward her bedroom. “I just need a minute. I just have to grab my purse.”

Sean closed the door behind him and stared at her retreating backside. Holy shit! How the fuck was he supposed to get through dinner with a raging hard-on? Tilting his head toward the ceiling, he breathed deeply and tried to get his body to behave. Something rubbed against his leg and he glanced down to find a grey cat doing figure eights around and through his legs. Sean smiled at the animal and squatted down to stroke its back. “Hey there, little guy. Who are you?”

“That’s Rico.”

Sean looked up to see Grace had returned with a silver clutch and a light, black cape in her hands. “I didn’t know you had a cat—he wasn’t here when we had dinner the other night, was he?”

Grace chuckled as he stood again. “No. This is Rico’s first day in his new home. I found him at the animal shelter this afternoon and fell in love with him. When I brought him home, he immediately strutted around like he was a king of the castle. No adjustments needed.”

She handed Sean her cape and turned around so he could place it over her shoulders. He was disappointed the material covered up her bare skin. He opened the door for her while she bent down to scratch the top of Rico’s head. “Now, you be a good boy, okay?”

Rico meowed his response, leaning into her touch. After one more ear scratch, she stood, then stepped over the threshold with Sean on her heels, shutting the door behind them. He placed his hand at her lower back, escorting her to his car, and she could feel the heat of her skin burning his hand even though the silk and light wool materials separated them. She shuddered as they reached the vehicle.

“Cold?” Sean asked. Without waiting for a reply, he opened the car door for her and took her hand to help her into the low seat. He silently groaned when the hem of her dress rose even higher as she settled in.

Heaven help him.