She looked up, eyebrows raised. “What?”

  He gestured around the sparsely furnished space. “This house is ours to use for the duration of the mission. Rich arranged it. There are a couple of guest rooms upstairs, and it’s got to be, what, an hour-and-a-half drive back to your place?”

  Lina hesitated, and he could practically see her weighing the offer. Professional distance versus practical necessity. The independent streak that made her want to refuse versus the exhaustion that made accepting the smart choice.

  “More like two hours,” she admitted.

  “Then stay. We’ve got an early meeting with Mrs. Peabody tomorrow anyway, and you’re dead on your feet.” He softened his tone. “It’s the practical thing to do, Lina. Nothing more.”

  The words tasted bitter on his tongue, but it was the right thing to say. He could see her relax slightly at the reassurance, even as his inner beast prowled restlessly at the thought of her sleeping under the same roof with him. Under his protection. Under his care.

  “Okay,” she said finally. “Thanks. That does make more sense than driving back tonight.”

  “Rich’s mate, Meg, said she’d stock the fridge for me. I haven’t had a chance to check it out yet, but I’m betting there’s plenty of food. You hungry?”

  “Starving, actually. I think nearly getting blown up burns more calories than I realized.”

  He opened the refrigerator and let out a low whistle. Meg had pulled out all the stops. The shelves were packed with containers of what looked like homemade meals, fresh fruit, sandwich fixings, and bottles of juice. There was also a selection of craft beers and a bottle of white wine.

  “Looks like Meg went all out,” Lina said, peering over his shoulder. The proximity sent a jolt through him. Her scent of clean soap and something uniquely her, beneath the lingering smell of smoke made his pulse kick up. “Is that lasagna?”

  “I think so.” He pulled out the large covered baking dish, along with another that held what appeared to be roasted chicken and vegetables. “There’s some salad in there too. Pick your poison.”

  “How about all of it?” Lina suggested with a grin that transformed her face from merely pretty to genuinely beautiful. “I wasn’t kidding about being starving.”

  They assembled a spread on the kitchen counter. A hunk of the lasagna went into the microwave to heat while they laid out the cold chicken, salad, and fresh bread. Liam found plates in the cabinet and silverware in a drawer. The domesticity of it all felt strange and right in equal measure.

  “What would you like to drink?” he asked, hand on the refrigerator door.

  “Do you see any guava juice? I noticed you drinking it at the restaurant.” She paused, looking slightly self-conscious. “I’ve been curious about it.”

  Something warm unfurled in his chest at the admission that she’d noticed what he drank, that she’d remembered. “Yeah, there’s some here. Meg’s pretty thorough. Rich likes it, so there’s usually some in their fridge. He’s the one who introduced me to it, in fact.”

  He snagged two bottles of the tropical juice and handed one to her. Their fingers brushed in the exchange, and he felt the spark of it all the way to his core. From the way her eyes widened slightly, she felt it too.

  The microwave beeped, breaking the moment. Liam retrieved the lasagna and carried it to the kitchen table. They settled into chairs across from each other and ate in silence, for a few minutes. It was the kind of comfortable silence that came from shared exhaustion and successful survival.

  “This is amazing,” Lina said around a mouthful of lasagna. “Rich’s mate is one hell of a cook.”

  “Meg’s pretty great,” Liam agreed. “She and Rich met during all the chaos with Mrs. E the first time around.”

  “So that’s how they ended up mated?” Lina reached for the salad, taking a large portion for herself. “I’ve always wondered how it works for lions. Do you just...know when you meet your mate?”

  The question hung in the air between them, weighted with more than casual curiosity. Liam took a slow sip of his juice, considering his answer carefully.

  “It’s a little different for everyone, I think,” he said finally. “Some lions know instantly. They meet their mate, and it’s like everything clicks into place. The recognition is immediate and undeniable.” He paused, studying her face. “Others seem to take longer to realize it. The bond builds gradually until, one day, they look at their mate and can’t imagine life without them.”

  “And you?” The question was soft, almost hesitant. “How do you think it might happen for you?”

  His lion surged forward at the question, demanding he tell her the truth. That from the moment he’d met her, something had stirred in his soul that he’d never experienced before. That sitting here with her now, sharing food in the quiet of midnight, felt more right than anything had in years.

  But it was too soon. Too fast. She was a lynx, he was a lion, and they’d been working together less than forty-eight hours. So instead, he said, “I’m really not sure. Do you have any thoughts on how it might go for you?”

  “No.” She looked down at her plate, pushing pasta around with her fork. “Lynx are solitary by nature. We don’t have the same kind of familial bonds that lions do. Most lynx go their whole lives without finding a mate.”

  “But not you?” He heard the unspoken longing in her statement.

  She met his gaze then, and the vulnerability he saw there made his breath catch. “I don’t know. I always told myself I was fine alone. That I didn’t need anyone. My career was enough, you know? But lately...” She trailed off, shaking her head. “Sorry. That’s probably more honesty than you were looking for at midnight.”

  “What better time to let our truths fly free? Don’t apologize.” He reached across the table, his hand covering hers before he could think better of it. “I get it. The job is important. Essential, even. But it doesn’t keep you warm at night.”

  Her fingers turned under his, their palms pressing together. The simple contact sent heat racing through his veins. Her lynx was there in her eyes, watching him with wary interest, and his lion rose to meet it. Not in challenge, but in recognition of a kindred spirit.

  “Liam,” she whispered. His name on her lips was the sweetest sound he’d ever heard.

  “Yeah?”

  “This is probably a terrible idea.”

  “Probably,” he agreed, his thumb stroking over her knuckles. “We’re working together. You’re FBI, I’m Navy. You’re lynx, I’m lion. There are about a dozen reasons why we should keep things strictly professional.”

  “At least a dozen,” she murmured, but she didn’t pull her hand away.

  They sat like that for a long moment, hands clasped across the table, the air between them electric with possibility and restraint. Liam could feel his lion pushing at him, wanting more, wanting to close the distance between them and claim what it already considered theirs.

  But the man knew better. Whatever was building between them needed time to develop naturally, without the pressure of trying to discover if they were true mates or the aftermath of battle to confuse things.

  Finally, reluctantly, he released her hand and sat back. “We should probably get some sleep. Early meeting tomorrow based on what Rich said.”

  “Right.” She cleared her throat, looking almost relieved at the return to practicality. “Sleep. Good idea.”

  They cleaned up the kitchen together, moving around each other in the small space with surprising ease. Every accidental brush of shoulders or arms felt charged with an almost electric awareness. By the time they’d loaded the dishwasher, Liam’s nerves were stretched taut.

  “I’ll show you the guest room,” he said, leading her toward the stairs.

  The second floor had three bedrooms and a bathroom. He pushed open the door to the largest guest room. It had a queen bed with fresh linens, a dresser, and a small closet. She went in but he stayed on the threshold.

  “Meg stocked the bathrooms too, I think. Towels, toiletries, the works. If you need anything else, my room is right next door.” He pointed to the room beside hers.

  “This is perfect. Thank you.” He stood in the doorway, backlit by the hall light, and for a moment, they just looked at each other.

  “Lina, I—” He stopped, not sure what he wanted to say. That he was glad she was here? That the thought of her leaving made his chest tight? That every instinct he had was screaming at him to pull her close and not let go?

  “I know,” she said quietly, and maybe she did. “Me too.”

  She closed the door softly between them. Liam stood in the hallway for a long moment, his hand pressed against the wood, feeling his lion pace inside him and growl with frustration.

  Tomorrow. they’d hunt again. Tonight, they’d probably both lie awake in separate rooms, thinking about what they were too smart—or too scared—to reach for.

  He finally turned and headed to his own room, already knowing sleep would be a long time coming. Through the wall, he heard water running as Lina prepared for bed, and his imagination supplied images he had no business entertaining.

  This mission had just gotten a lot more complicated.

  But as he lay in the dark, staring at the ceiling, Liam couldn’t bring himself to regret it. Whatever was happening between himself and Lina, it felt inevitable. Like a force of nature that couldn’t be stopped, only redirected momentarily.

  His lion settled with that thought, content for now with her scent in the house, her presence just a wall away. For tonight, that would be enough.

  Tomorrow, they’d see what fate had in store for them next.

  Lina woke to pale morning light filtering through unfamiliar curtains. For a disorienting moment, she couldn’t place where she was. Then memory rushed back. The explosion. The soggy evidence. Liam’s invitation to stay.

  Liam, sleeping in the room right next to hers.

  She groaned softly and pressed her palms against her eyes. She’d lain awake for at least an hour after going to bed, hyperaware of every sound from his room. The creak of floorboards. Water running in the bathroom. The quiet settling of the house around them. Her inner cat had been restlessly pacing, wanting to investigate the lion so tantalizingly close.

  Professional boundaries, she’d reminded herself firmly. They were colleagues on a mission. Nothing more. They couldn’t be anything more until after this mission was complete. That was the only sensible way to handle this.

  Except that holding hands across a kitchen table hadn’t felt like nothing. It had felt significant in a beautiful, hot, scary way.

  She sat up, running fingers through her tangled hair. The digital clock on the nightstand read, 6:47 AM. They would likely have their meeting with Mrs. Peabody this morning, if Rich could arrange it. Lina had time for a shower, but her go-bag was still in her car. She’d need clean clothes for the day, but she had to get them from her car first.

  Lina looked down at herself. She’d slept in her underwear, and the clothes she’d put on in the street after her unexpected swim weren’t in great shape. They were dry, but rumpled and they still smelled faintly of smoke. Not exactly the professional image she wanted to present to a powerful coven elder.

  She listened carefully. The house was silent. Liam must still be asleep.

  Moving quietly, she slipped out of the guest room and down the stairs, padding barefoot across the hardwood floor. She had her keys in her hand as she eased open the front door, wincing at the slight creak of hinges.

  The morning air was cool and damp, heavy with the salt-scent of the nearby ocean. Mist clung to the manicured lawns of the tidy neighborhood, giving everything a soft, dreamlike quality. Her car sat at the curb where she’d left it, looking perfectly ordinary. She would walk quickly to the car, get her stuff and get back into the house just as quickly, she decided. Taking a deep breath, she walked briskly out into the pale sunshine of early morning.

  She was halfway down the front walk when she noticed them.

  Three elderly women were strolling down the sidewalk, moving at the slow, steady pace of morning walkers. They wore sensible shoes and light jackets against the slight chill in the air. All three had white or silver hair, and all three had stopped walking to stare directly at her.

  Heat flooded Lina’s cheeks. She was barefoot, wearing yesterday’s rumpled clothes, sneaking out of a house at dawn to her car. To anyone watching, it probably looked like a walk of shame.

  Except nothing had happened. She and Liam had eaten together and held hands, and gone to their separate rooms like responsible adults.

  But these sweet-looking old ladies didn’t know that.

  One of them—a tiny woman with a cloud of white curls—smiled knowingly and gave a little wave. The gesture was equal parts friendly and conspiratorial, as if to say, We’ve all been young once, dear.

  Chapter 7

  Lina’s inner cat wanted to hiss with embarrassment, but her human side knew the only thing to do was brazen it out. She lifted her hand and waved back at the old ladies, trying for casual and probably achieving awkward.

  The women resumed their walk, heads bent together in what was undoubtedly going to be a very interesting conversation about the mysterious young woman staying at the empty house.

  Great. Just great.

  Lina grabbed her bag from the trunk and locked the car, then hurried back up the walkway. She was almost to the front door when it swung open.

  And there was Liam.

  Shirtless.

  Lina’s brain short-circuited.

  He stood in the doorway, one muscular shoulder propped against the frame, his phone pressed to his ear. Golden morning light slanted across his chest, highlighting the defined planes of muscle, the faint scars that marked his warrior’s body. His hair was sleep-mussed, falling across his forehead in a way that made her fingers itch to brush it back.

  “Uh-huh,” he was saying into the phone, his voice still rough with sleep. “Yeah, I understand. We’ll be there at nine sharp, Mrs. Peabody. Thank you for making time for us.”

  His gaze tracked Lina’s progress up the walk, and even while he was clearly focused on his phone conversation, she felt the weight of his attention like a physical touch. A slow smile curved his lips as he took in her bare feet, rumpled clothes, and the bag clutched in her hand.

  He knew exactly how this looked. And he was enjoying her discomfort.

  Lina lifted her chin and marched past him into the house with as much dignity as she could muster, which wasn’t much at the moment. She was acutely aware of him behind her, close enough that she could feel the warmth radiating from his bare skin, and smell the clean, masculine scent of him.

  “Yes, ma’am,” Liam continued, his tone respectful, but his eyes dancing with amusement as he watched Lina. “We’re very grateful for your help. See you soon.”

  He ended the call and lowered the phone, his smile widening into a full grin. “Were you out for a morning walk?”

  “I needed my bag,” she said defensively, setting it down on the kitchen table with perhaps more force than necessary. “From my car.”

  “Uh-huh.” He crossed his arms over that distractingly bare chest. “And you just happened to run into the neighborhood watch?”

  “That’s not funny. Those little old ladies probably think—” She stopped, heat rushing to her face again.

  “Think what?” He was definitely enjoying this now, the bastard. “That you spent the night here having wild jungle sex with me?”

  Her face flamed at the image his words painted in her mind. “That I spent the night here, yes,” she finally said, clarifying his statement and ignoring the wild jungle sex comment.

  What even was wild jungle sex? Her people were from cold climates. She didn’t know much about the jungle, the type of sex they had there, or anything else, really.

  “But you did spend the night here.”

  “You know what I mean.” She glared at him, trying very hard not to let her gaze drift south of his collarbone. “They think something happened between us.”

  “Something did happen.” His expression sobered slightly, though the glint of humor remained in his eyes. “We worked a case together, nearly got blown up, and ate midnight snacks. Quite a lot happened, actually.”

  “That’s not—” She huffed out a breath, knowing she was being ridiculous but unable to stop herself. “They’re witches, aren’t they? Those ladies?”

  “Probably.” Liam moved to the coffee maker and started it brewing with practiced efficiency, apparently unconcerned about his state of undress. “This neighborhood is mostly coven members and their families. Word will get back to Mrs. Peabody before we even arrive at her house, that there was a strange woman at the empty house at dawn. They all know I’ve been granted leave to use this house, so they’ll know you were with me.”

  “Perfect.” Lina dropped into a chair, her embarrassment giving way to resignation. “Our first meeting with a powerful coven elder, and she’s going to think I’m...”

  “Working with me on a case?” Liam turned to face her, his expression gentle now. “Which is exactly what you are doing. Lina, they’re not going to judge you. If anything, they’ll be thrilled to know you’re taking Mrs. E seriously enough to work around the clock.”

  She wanted to believe him, but her inner beast was still bristling with discomfort at being observed, and being gossiped about. Solitary cats didn’t do well with that kind of social scrutiny.

  Liam seemed to sense her continued unease. He pulled two mugs from the cabinet and filled them with fresh coffee, then brought one to her. As he set it on the table, he rested his other hand briefly on her shoulder. The touch was warm and grounding.

  “Hey,” he said softly. “Nothing happened. We both know that. And honestly? What anyone else thinks doesn’t matter.”

  She looked up at him, at the kindness in his eyes, and felt something in her chest loosen. “You’re right. I’m being ridiculous.”

  “You’re being human. Or, well, lynx. Whatever.” His smile was warm. “Go take your shower. I’ll make breakfast. We’ve got plenty of time before we need to leave.”