THERE WERE FEW things Shannon Toliver knew with absolute certainty. She loved her job with the FBI, she adored her family, her friends were awesome—and she absolutely abhorred Ezra Jackson Hahn. “Let go of my arm, Hahn. Before I gnaw off your hand.”

“In a good mood tonight, aren’t we?”

“We aren’t in anything.” She had to admit, his hand wasn’t hurting her. She could easily pull herself away—and give half the people in Smokey’s a real good show. Shannon wasn’t about to do that. “So what do you want?”

“Bobby Pruitt—that cop you were dancing with...” Ezra glared down at her from eyes so dark, she was half-convinced they were alien. Fanciful, stupid, but the truth. If the eyes were the window to the soul, then Ezra’s was pitch black.

Where she was concerned. He had a lot of redeeming qualities. She’d seen them before.

He wasn’t nearly as big a jerk with the people he cared about.

With everyone but her.

Shannon didn’t have a clue what she had done to make him feel that way about her. She and Ezra grated on each other like rough-grit sandpaper. Shannon didn’t see that changing any time soon.

“What about him?”

“Married. Three kids. Wife is in Kansas City right now. Heard he likes to get around.” He kept pulling her toward the door. Shannon let him. The last thing she wanted to be was the latest Smokey Jo Spectacle.

“No kidding. Debbie is a friend of mine.” They had been dancing because the dance floor was the only quiet place for them to talk without being overheard. He was worried about his wife; she had been secretive lately. Like she was worried about something.

Shannon hoped she’d reassured him—and Debbie was worried about something. She’d been ill for three weeks and didn’t know how to tell Bobby the reason why. Shannon had been telling him to go home and talk to his wife for once. The playing around was just rumors, as far as she could tell.

“Then why the hell were you wrapped around him like plastic wrap?” Ezra’s voice took on that judgmental holier-than-thou tone he seemed to reserve just for her. The switch flipped.

Shannon stretched up to her full five-foot-three-and-two-thirds height. Not that stretching did any good—Ezra was at least thirteen inches taller than she was. Irritating.

And a fact he used against her whenever he could. “I wasn’t... I’m not going to explain how I deal with my friends, Hahn. It’s none of your flipping business.”

“Do you ever curse? Or are you always such a goody-two-shoes? Can you say ‘shit’, Toliver?”

“Only when you drive me to it. Let go. I didn’t make a scene inside because everyone was watching, but I don’t appreciate you getting grabby.” His hand felt hot on her arm, scorching her skin.

“Guiding a woman through the crowd isn’t grabby, it’s gentlemanly.”

She snorted. “Not from you. And I could make my own way through.” He hadn’t ever been a gentleman to her. Far from it. The man had gone out of his way on numerous occasions to needle her.

“Fine. Don’t be appreciative. I’ll find someone who is.”

“Good luck with that.” Not that he’d need it. Talk about unfair. Ezra was a very, very pretty man. He was tall, broad shouldered—though a bit gangly for her tastes—dark, and handsome. And well...just beautiful. Even his teeth were perfect. He looked like he should be modeling expensive underwear on a larger-than-life billboard somewhere for stupid women to drool over every time they drove by.

He made her feel like a grubby kid next to him. A kid who could never measure up to the local legend, at that.

Which was ridiculous.

Ezra Hahn was nothing to her but her sworn enemy. The bane of her work existence, her workplace anathema.

He drove her flat-out nuts.

Without even trying.

So why was she following him outside? Shannon didn’t have a clue. Maybe she was just a glutton for punishment where the man was concerned.

——

EZRA HAD taken one look at her tonight, her suit jacket missing and the little silk blouse she’d worn underneath it that day shimmering in the lights on the dance floor, and he’d wanted her away from that other idiot no matter what he had to do.

So, he’d gone with it. “Just didn’t think you would want people talking about you being the latest on the list of his conquests.”

“Thanks for your concern. I didn’t know you were the type to buy into stupid gossip, Hahn,” Shannon said, shooting him a look from eyes that were right smack in the middle of the brown spectrum. It wasn’t the color that stuck with him the most. It was the shape. The intensity. How she used them to express exactly what she was feeling. He loved putting fire into her eyes whenever he could.

He’d dreamed of her eyes many times before. Her eyes, her sharp slightly too-wide mouth, the trim little body that was just the right size for a man to hold on to... Shannon Toliver was in his dreams far too often for comfort. Exactly where she had been since the first time he’d ever been alone with her.

He couldn’t miss the sarcasm. It was her trademark response to ninety percent of what he said. “You’re welcome. You got a ride home? I’d be happy to give you a lift.”

“Sure you would. Straight down to hell, no doubt. I know how you think, Ezra Hahn.”

She snipped at him. Like she always did. If she wasn’t snarking in his direction, then he’d get concerned.

Ezra turned to her more fully. He’d accomplished what he’d wanted—he had her out of Smokey’s and away from that jackass inside. He wasn’t sure what he wanted to say next. Idiot. He was an idiot. He should have just left her inside—alone. He knew that. He’d decided his best bet in life was to stay far away from this little piece of trouble long ago. “Listen, Toliver—”

Fire shot through his neck.

Ezra hit the ground, entire body shaking as darkness threatened to consume him. Hard hands yanked him up. Shannon screamed out. Someone else, a woman, yelled from nearby.

Ezra gave one more good shot at fighting the darkness. He lost.