Bryce parked his car on the curb and climbed the steps to his half of the two-story duplex on the outskirts of the Garden District. Growing up, his family had barely scraped by in their three-bedroom rental on the wrong side of the tracks. He’d always dreamed of owning one of the big mansions in the area. While sharing a split-level with another family didn’t exactly count as owning a mansion, at least he was in the right neighborhood.

A single massive oak tree filled the small front yard and shielded most of the yellow and white house from the street. Karen and Michael had wrapped the thick trunk with twinkling white lights for the holidays. That was as festive as Bryce was willing to get.

He lifted a fake fern out of a clay pot on the landing and grabbed his spare key from the bottom. Sliding it into the lock, he pushed the door open.

“Sam, I’m home.” He stepped into the living room and braced himself for impact. His eighty-pound Siberian husky leapt from the couch and barreled toward him. He bent his knees to receive the goofball of a dog with open arms, and Sam showered his face in kisses, whining and wagging like he hadn’t seen his owner in days.

“All right, boy. Calm down. You missed your walk today, didn’t you?”

Sam woofed.

“You go do your business in the back yard, and I’ll walk you after dinner. Deal?”

The dog licked his hand and darted to the back door.

“Out you go.” Bryce flung open the door, and Sam raced onto the terrace and scrambled down the steps into the small back yard. He left the door open a crack and watched through the window as Sam chased a squirrel into a tree. “Crazy dog.”

He grabbed a beer from the fridge and leaned against the counter, appreciating the peaceful silence of his home as he took a long drink. The effervescent liquid cooled his dry throat, and the quiet calm soothed his frazzled nerves.

The events of today had hit way too close to home, and while most of the guys on the team liked to let off steam at a crowded sports bar or night club, Bryce sought refuge in the solace of stillness. Michael would be okay, and Alexis…

He was done being the badass cop for today.

As soon as Sam came back inside, Bryce popped his last frozen dinner into the microwave and sighed. A trip to the dreaded grocery store was in order.

As he finished his last bite of Salisbury steak, he rinsed the plastic container and tossed it in the recycle bin. His favorite book sat on the end table, begging him to read it, but he’d promised Sam a walk after dinner. It was the eighth time he’d read The War of the Worlds, anyway. The Martians probably wouldn’t change their plan of attack while he was out.

He picked up the leash, and Sam wagged his tail so hard his hind end could have fallen off. “Let’s go, boy.”

Sam darted out the door, dragging Bryce down the steps. The husky’s tongue lolled from his mouth as he pranced down the street, sniffing and hiking his leg on every tree and bush he could find.

Normally, a cold, crisp night like this would clear Bryce’s mind, but Alexis clouded his thoughts tonight. The official report said attempted suicide. A sickening feeling formed in his stomach. He couldn’t live with himself if he’d left her there alone to enable another attempt. He twisted his brother’s ring.

Stop second-guessing yourself. She’d sworn she wasn’t trying to kill herself, and he believed her. In all his years as a detective, he’d gotten good at spotting a lie. This wasn’t one. She had gotten into trouble though, and damn it, he promised he wouldn’t tell her sister. Macey would want to know if someone had hurt Alexis. Now he was stuck between a boulder and a brick wall.

Macey trusted him explicitly. If he didn’t tell her, she’d never forgive him if something happened to Alexis. But if he did tell her, who knew what kind of mess he’d stir up between the sisters? Alexis would probably never speak to him again. He hardly knew the woman, but based on the way his heart raced when she was around, he wanted to know more of her. A lot more.

Alexis double-checked the address Bryce left in her pocket and climbed the stairs to the second floor. Sharp pain shot through her knees with each step as she clutched the wooden railing and dragged her aching body up. She hesitated on the landing, toying with the key in her hand. This was a bad idea.

But what else could she do? Her sister would’ve been happy to help, but she couldn’t get Macey involved. Eric was right. The Crescent City pack couldn’t help her stop his sadistic plans. Their territory ended where Eric’s began. All they could do was report it to the congress, and nobody listened to a rogue.

She had to handle this herself. Her life depended on it, and going to Macey would put her in danger too. Worse than that, Alexis would have to admit she’d gotten herself in over her head.

No, she’d figure something out. She needed a safe place to lay low for a while, at least until she recovered enough to shift. Then she could get her car from the parking lot in Pearl River and at least have her clothes and her phone back. After that… Eric’s father might listen to her. If anyone could put an end to his scheme, it was David.

She put on a mask of resolve and knocked. No answer. She chewed her bottom lip. Bryce wouldn’t have given her a key if he didn’t want her to use it, so she slipped it into the lock and opened the door.

Warm air enveloped her as she stepped inside, relaxing the tension she carried in her shoulders. She expected the place to be a pigsty, typical of the cocky smartass type Bryce appeared to be, but this was no standard bachelor pad. The countertops gleamed like they’d been freshly polished, and the furniture looked brand new. The living room smelled of lavender with a slight undercurrent of dog fur so faint she could barely detect it. The place had such a homey feel that she found herself standing in the entry, brow scrunched, unable to move for a moment.

“Bryce, are you home?” Soft carpet squished beneath her boots as she tiptoed through the living room and down the hall toward the bathroom. A bedroom door hung open, and she resisted the urge to peek inside to see where he slept. Her mouth went dry. She’d imagined him in the sack plenty of times since she’d met him, and seeing his actual bedroom would add fuel to the fire she was trying to extinguish.

A second door stood shut, and curiosity got the better of her. She gave the knob a twist and found it locked. What secret was he hiding in there? As long as it wasn’t another soundproof room, it didn’t matter. As soon as she recovered, she’d thank him for his help and be out of his life. Let the man have his secrets.

Avoiding the bathroom mirror, she stripped out of her blood-crusted clothes and stepped into the shower. Warm water cascaded from the showerhead, the droplets stinging as they pelted her bruised skin. The purple marks were already fading to a greenish-yellow, but they hurt like hell. Everything hurt.

She turned off the water, stepped out of the shower, and stared at her reflection in the mirror. What the hell was she doing here? Bruised and broken, she’d barely escaped from one arrogant male, and she’d run straight into the home of another one.

Sure, Bryce was handsome. Smoking hot. She’d felt something stirring deep inside her soul the moment she’d met him, but she’d squashed the sensation like dead bug as soon as she’d caught it wriggling its way into her mind. A rogue couldn’t be tied down to a human. Especially to a cop. She had a hard enough time following supernatural laws; being near Bryce would force her to consider human ones too. It would also force her to face her feelings for him.

If he really had lost most of his family like Macey said, he’d have deep emotional scars. Wounds like that hardened men, and every time she scratched away the sexy, self-assured surface, she found an asshole underneath. Maybe Bryce would be different, but…

She sighed. It didn’t matter. Getting close to him would end in heartache. Either she’d leave like she always did when she started getting comfortable somewhere, hurting him, or he’d turn out to be an asshole like all the other men she’d fallen for. It would never work.

Still, she couldn’t deny the spark she’d felt when she shook his hand over Macey’s hospital bed last year. It wasn’t the spark of magic that she always felt when she touched someone with supernatural abilities—Bryce was all man—but looking into his bright, hazel eyes had made her heart stutter and her wolf howl.

And when Macey was hurt, he’d stayed by her side like she was family. He seemed to genuinely care. Macey trusted him, and that was the reason she’d come to his house for refuge. But he was a man, and Alexis was done with men…no matter what her wolf—or fate—had in mind.

She chewed her bottom lip. Speaking of fate…a vague memory of waking up in the ambulance rattled through her mind. She remembered clutching the EMT’s hand and feeling a buzzing, supernatural energy seeping from her skin. The rhyming rhythm of a healing spell knocked around in her brain, but she couldn’t remember the words. It was no coincidence she’d ended up in a witch’s ambulance.

She grabbed a towel and wrapped it around her chest. She didn’t need to justify her decision to come here—to herself or anyone else. Once she could shift, she could run back to Pearl River and get her car. This arrangement was temporary—like the rest of her life.

Bryce paused on the terrace with his hand on the doorknob. He remembered locking it when he left. His pulse quickened as he gazed in through the window. Light illuminated the hallway, but he always turned them off. Keeping Sam close by his side, he slipped inside and took his pistol from a drawer in the kitchen. It could’ve been Alexis, taking him up on his offer of refuge. It also could’ve been an intruder, and he wasn’t taking any chances.

He padded into the hallway to find the bathroom door ajar, the scents of soap and shampoo wafting out with the dissipating steam. Widening his stance, he held the gun by his side. “Come out where I can see you.”

The door opened fully, and he couldn’t help but focus on the pair of shapely legs stepping through. He dragged his gaze up, over the midnight blue towel that covered her torso, and regarded the most disarming set of green eyes he’d ever seen. “Alexis.” His posture relaxed, and a strange mix of relief and hope fluttered in his core.

A sly smile curved her lips as she raised her hands. “Don’t shoot.”

Sam lunged, yanking the leash from his hand. The dog whined and barked, shaking his whole body in excitement as he danced around her feet.

She grinned and reached down to pet him. “Some guard dog you got here.”

“Sorry. He’s not used to visitors.” He picked up the leash and pulled Sam away, ducking into his bedroom to set the gun down.

“It’s okay. He’s sweet.”

He returned to the hall. “Anyway, a badass cop like me doesn’t need a guard dog.” He winked and unhooked the leash. “Go to the living room, boy. Go.”

Sam whimpered and looked at Alexis.

Bryce raised his voice. “Sam…Go.”

The dog reluctantly sulked away, and Bryce focused on Alexis.

Damn. His chest tightened. Even the mottled bruises covering her body couldn’t take away from her beauty. She stood about five foot ten, and her legs had to be a mile long. The towel barely covered the important parts. Heat flushed through his body, probably turning him ten shades of red. He was staring, but his brain couldn’t seem to form a coherent thought to break the trance.

Resting her hands on her hips, she shifted her weight to one side. “You act like you’ve never had a naked woman in your house before.”

He forced the words over the lump in his throat. “You’re the first.”

“Yeah, right.” She stepped into the bathroom and came out with a wad of clothes. “Do you have a washing machine?”

“Yes.” His mouth worked, but the rest of his body hadn’t processed the shock.

She arched an eyebrow. “Can I borrow it?”

“Oh. Yeah. Here, let me take that.” He took the laundry from her hands and padded to the washing closet. “Mind if I throw some of mine in with it? I had a rough day at the office.”

“Fine with me.” Her voice came from right over his shoulder.

He tensed. Her close proximity had his arms aching to hold her, and the scent of his soap on her body turned him on way more than it should have. He’d given her his key so she’d have a safe place to sleep, but he hadn’t thought about what having her here would do to him.

He groaned inwardly. He had to get her out of that towel and into something more modest before he exploded. “Do you want to borrow some clothes while you’re waiting on these?” Flipping on the washing machine, he turned to face her.

“Would it make you more comfortable if I did?” Amusement lilted her voice.

“It would, unless you…” He clamped his mouth shut before the automatic smartass comment could slip out. After what she’d been through, asking her if she wanted him to get naked too would be a dick move.

“Unless I, what?”

“Nothing.” He sidestepped around her.

“Okay then.” A muffled chuckle slipped from her lips as she followed him to his bedroom.

Pausing at the door, he considered saying it anyway. She seemed amused by the effect she had on him, but he wasn’t lying when he’d said Alexis was the first naked woman he’d had in his house. Now she’d be the first one in his bedroom too. His home was his sanctuary. His quiet place to relax and recharge his batteries. He’d never been big on guests, especially overnight ones. He’d make an exception for Alexis, though. She needed him, and something about being able to provide for her had him aching with his own need.

He dropped the leash on the dresser and moved his service weapon to the drawer next to his personal firearm before pulling out a pair of sweatpants. “Here.” He handed them to her. “They have a drawstring, so you should be able to keep them up.”

In his closet, he reached for a white T-shirt, but the thin fabric would’ve been more revealing than the towel. He handed her a dark green one instead. She took the clothes and looked around at his bedroom.

“What?” he said.

“Nothing.” She shrugged. “It’s not what I expected.”

“My room?” He turned off the closet light and crossed his arms. How many times had he imagined having Alexis in his bed? And now here she was, nearly naked and standing three feet away from him.

“Your whole house.”

“What did you expect?” And why did her answer matter so much to him?

“A pigsty. Tough guy. Lives alone. No time for cleaning since he’s always out fighting bad guys and seducing women.”

He flinched. “You don’t know me.”

“I know your type.” She turned and headed for the bathroom.

Her statement stung, though it didn’t surprise him. He’d worked hard to build up his no-bullshit reputation. To make sure no one saw the scrawny little nerd who’d had to do other people’s homework to avoid getting his head shoved in the toilet. He’d created his confident, tough guy persona with a purpose. But for some odd reason, he didn’t want Alexis to view him that way.

He shuffled into the living room and dropped his keys into a bowl near the door. Turning around, he found Alexis there in his baggy sweatpants and T-shirt. Thankfully, the garments hung shapeless on her body, hiding her curves. Then again, seeing her wearing his clothes was another kind of sexy entirely.

“Why are you wearing scrubs?” She gestured to his shirt.

He glanced at his clothes. “That rough day at the office I told you about? I got puked on.”

“Ew.” She wrinkled her nose. “That’s what I smelled.”

“Yeah. I’m going to shower real quick.” He started down the hall, but he paused. “Are you going to be here when I get out?”

She winced as she lowered herself onto the couch. “I’m not going anywhere.”

Sam jumped onto the sofa and licked her face. Bryce was about to scold his dog, but she laughed and scratched the fleabag behind the ears.

Warmth spread through his core. “If he’s bothering you, I can put him in the back yard.”

“He’s fine. Mind if I turn on the TV?”

“Go for it.” He hurried down the hall and showered and changed as fast as he could, tossing the scrubs into the wash with the other clothes. He even brushed his teeth just in case. Not that he was planning on kissing her—or even getting that close to her—but better safe than sorry, right? Holding his breath, he padded back to the living room. Fear that she’d be gone when he entered the room had his stomach in knots.

But there she sat, in the same place on the couch, Sam curled up next to her with his head in her lap. Lucky dog. “Can I get you anything? Water? Tea?”

She grimaced as she shifted her position. “Got any whiskey?”

“I’ve got a bottle of Jameson, but should you really be drinking in your condition?”

She stiffened. “In my condition, I could use a little pain relief.”

“Do you want some ibuprofen?”

“Just the whiskey.”

What a woman. “Yes, ma’am.” He opened the bottle and poured two glasses. Offering her the drink, he settled onto a chair next to the sofa.

She sipped the whiskey and closed her eyes. “Mmm. That’s better.” As her lids fluttered open, her gaze locked with his. “What?”

Damn it, he was staring at her again. “Nothing. Are you hungry?”

“Starving.”

Setting his glass on the coffee table, he shuffled to the kitchen and rummaged through the cabinets and the fridge. He’d eaten his last frozen dinner that evening. He had nothing with sustenance to offer her. “All I’ve got is a tube of Pringles and some Snickers bars. I can run out and pick something up for you.”

“Chips and candy are my favorite.” She grabbed the book from the end table. “The War of the Worlds? I didn’t take you for a sci-fi nerd.”

“I’m not.” And he planned to make damn sure she never found out he was. Yanking the book from her hand, he set the food on the coffee table. Sam raised his head. “None for you, boy. You know what it does to your stomach.”

She raised an eyebrow. “Junk food doesn’t agree with him?”

“You thought I smelled bad. We’d need gas masks if he ate any.”

She smiled and shoved a chip into her mouth. “This beats hospital food any day.”

He slipped the book between the cushion and the arm of the chair, thankful he’d been able to change the subject. He’d prefer to talk about his farting dog any day over his love of science fiction. Alexis didn’t seem like the type of woman who went for geeks.

She polished off half the tube of Pringles before moving on to the Snickers. Any woman who was happy with chips and candy for dinner was a keeper in his book. He sipped his whiskey and smiled. He could get used to this kind of company.

Aside from Macey’s occasional visits, the only other woman who’d been in his house was Karen, and he usually tensed up when his neighbor overstayed her welcome. But something about Alexis being here added to the calm of his sanctuary rather than detracting from it.

She brought the chocolate to her lips and paused. “You’re staring at me.”

“Sorry.” He set his glass on the table and yanked his head down from the clouds. “When are you going to tell me what really happened to you?” Nobody climbed a hundred-foot electrical tower unless they had a death wish or they were being chased.

Alexis sipped her whiskey and eyed him warily. “I’m not.”

It figured. He’d have to be delicate with his interrogation if he wanted to get anywhere with her. “Whatever it is, I can help you.”

She let out a cynical laugh and took a bite of the Snickers bar. “No, you can’t. Believe me. You don’t want to get involved.”

“I already am, and I think I already told you that.” He held her gaze, and for a moment, her eyes softened. Her lips parted slightly, and she inhaled as if she were going to speak.

She shook her head.

“Look, I’m going out on a limb here by keeping this a secret. Macey may not be my partner anymore, but she trusts me. And she’s my friend.” He sighed. “She’d expect me to tell her if I knew you were in trouble. You’ve gotta give me something. Let me help.”

She stroked Sam’s fur, and he nuzzled into her lap. What Bryce would have given to be in that dog’s place. “You are helping. Letting me stay here tonight is all I need. Tomorrow, I can go get my car back, and everything will be fine.”

“Where’s your car?”

“Pearl River.”

He furrowed his brow. “That’s forty miles away. How’d you end up in a New Orleans hospital?”

Drawing her shoulders toward her ears, she looked into his eyes. “Fate?”

He chuckled. “There’s no such thing. Try again.”

She paused and pressed her lips together, as if considering her words, and cut her gaze to the left. “Then, I have no idea.”

“Okay.” He’d let her hold on to this lie. It didn’t matter how she ended up there; he was involved now, whether she wanted him to be or not. “Let me drive you to your car.”

“Oh, I don’t think so.” She bit her bottom lip and focused on the dog.

“What are you going to do? Walk there?”

She shrugged. “Maybe.”

Stubborn. Independent. Like her sister, she didn’t know how to accept help. “Let me take you. I’ve got nothing better to do.”

She arched an eyebrow. “I highly doubt that, but, okay. I’ll let you take me to Pearl River and drop me off at my car. That’s it, though. No more questions and you stay out of my business.”

“Deal.” He crossed his arms and leaned back in the chair. There was no way in hell he was staying out of it. But at least if he drove her there, he might be able to pick up a few clues as to what was going on. Then he’d decide if he needed to get Macey or the police involved.

She stretched her arms over her head and cringed. “Ow. I should probably get some sleep. Can I borrow a blanket?”

“You can sleep in my bed.”

She raised her eyebrows, and he could practically see the thought forming in her mind.

“Not with me in it. I’ll take the couch. You’re too sore to sleep out here.”

“I’ll be fine.”

Man, she was beyond stubborn. “No, you won’t. You need a good night’s rest. You’re sleeping in my bed.”

She paused and regarded him, a tiny, heart-melting smile curving the corners of her lips. “Well, if you insist.”

“I do. And if you need anything at all…ibuprofen, water, more whiskey…whatever…let me know. I’ll be right here if you need me.”

Her brow furrowed, a look of confusion clouding her eyes. “Thanks, Bryce. I appreciate that.”