Between traffic and taking back streets to avoid traffic cameras and the police, the drive to Ibarra’s took nearly an hour. Sean didn’t say much, though Krista caught him looking at her a couple times with a thoughtful expression on his face.

Her brain was too busy stewing on what they’d discovered about her father and what Jack Brooks might reveal—if anything—to dwell on what might be going through Sean’s mind behind those pensive looks.

Sean pulled into Ibarra’s garage. After he disarmed the alarm system, they entered through a door that connected to the house’s small living room. She tossed the files they’d taken from her father’s house on the low coffee table while Sean updated Ibarra on the scant information they’d gleaned from Brooks.

“So far he’s a dead end, but that could change.”

Just like the files, Krista thought morosely as she stared down at the thin pile of manila folders. Other than revealing that her father was involved with people willing to kill her to keep their secrets safe, she didn’t think they’d offer up any great clues.

Krista scanned through Nate’s file one more time as she rubbed her temples. On the surface it was a business transaction, completely clean and for all intents and purposes seemed aboveboard. But her stomach churned as she wondered how much her father knew. Did he have any knowledge, even an inkling, that when he was working with Nate he was representing a cold-blooded killer? Did he even think, for a second, that after Nate was exposed as the Seattle Slasher, he should reveal his dealings with him?

“That’s good at least, but who knows how soon before they put two and two together?” Krista followed his voice into the office where Sean was talking to Ibarra. They were side by side by the open picture window, their massively powerful frames silhouetted against the late-afternoon light. Sean turned, showing her his profile. His hand lifted to his chin, his fingers brushing back and forth against the grain of his goatee.

For a split second Krista had a memory of those long, strong fingers brushing over her skin, delving between her legs, sinking deep…

As though he felt her stare, his eyes flicked to her face. After the day they’d had, this was so not the time to let her hormones take over.

Again.

“What’s up?” she said, turning her attention to Ibarra. Handsome as he was, for whatever reason she didn’t lose herself in daydreams of tying him to his bed every time she looked at him. She kept her eyes pinned on Ibarra’s face to keep herself from getting distracted by Sean.

“A little good news,” Sean interjected. “The cops showed up at your father’s house because the neighbor’s housekeeper called it in.”

“Esmerelda,” Krista gave herself a mental asskicking. It was a measure of how fried she really was that she didn’t remember the Johnsons’ hypervigilant housekeeper. “She busted me both times I tried to sneak out after curfew.”

“Only twice?” Sean cocked a dark eyebrow and gave her a look like she was the biggest nerd on the planet.

Krista shrugged. “I got busted both times and cut my losses. Why is that good news?”

“She wasn’t able to identify either of us.”

Krista felt a little tension leave her shoulders. “Hopefully our luck will hold, because I’m afraid our next move is going to be breaking into my father’s office.”

“You think he has the files there?” Sean said. “I thought you said he keeps anything sensitive at the house. Why would he change that?”

“I don’t know!” Krista said, exasperated. “Maybe he’s changed up how he does things. God knows I’ve discovered things I never expected about my father today.”

Sean and Ibarra exchanged a look.

“I’m going to make myself a sandwich,” Ibarra said, giving Krista a sympathetic pat on the arm as he passed her on the way to the door.

She closed her eyes against the sting of tears. But God, she was so tired, so wrung out by everything. “I know it’s probably just another dead end, but I don’t know what else to do—”

Her voice caught in her throat as strong hands slid over her shoulders, thumbs kneading at the tension as hot tingles shot down her spine. “Hey, why don’t we take a breather, relax and give ourselves a minute to think on our next move?” Sean said, so close she could feel the warmth of his breath ruffling her hair.

Before she could open her mouth to protest, he continued. “You’ve had a hell of a day, finding out that shit about your dad and standing up to a bad-ass like Jack Brooks.”

Despite herself, Krista felt a smile pulling at her lips. “He wasn’t that bad.”

Sean gave her shoulders a firmer squeeze. “I have a bruise on my back that proves you wrong. I’ve never run from a fight in my life, but I even I have to admit the dude’s intimidating. But you stood up to him like you were channeling Wonder Woman.”

She tipped her head back to look at him. “Amazing how desperation can motivate you.”

A smile quirked his full lips. “Whatever it was, I was impressed. That’s some spine you have.”

“Thanks,” she murmured, unable to take her eyes off that full mouth, more sensual now that it was framed by the whiskers of his goatee. Dark and thick, she wondered how they would feel brushing against her skin.

And then she didn’t have to wonder, because Sean was turning her in his arms and bringing his mouth down on hers. He whispered something at the last second that sounded like “Idiot.” Probably aimed at himself, but it applied to both of them. That’s what this was. Idiocy, craziness. Yet as his tongue stroked hers and the brush of his whiskers against her cheek sent a thrill straight to her core, nothing had ever felt more right.

The sat phone shrieked, and Sean gave a frustrated groan as he reluctantly untangled his tongue from hers. As though he couldn’t help himself, he pressed one last, lingering kiss on her cheek before he reached for the phone.

Sean studied the display, his face grim. “It’s not a number I recognize.”

The heat from Sean’s kiss was gone in an instant. The only person besides Ibarra who had the number was Jack Brooks.

Unless…Don’t panic. Even if someone else had gotten hold of the number, the phone was untraceable. And if they’d somehow made the connection to Ibarra, well, Krista had all the faith that he could take care of himself.

Still, her stomach flipped over as Sean pressed the ANSWER button and held it to his ear. “Yes.” His shoulders relaxed a little. “Hold on, let me put it on speaker.”

Sean placed the phone on the desk and pressed a button. “Are you there?”

“Yes.” Jack’s deep, familiar voice filled the office. “And I have Talia Vega on the line.”