“I made an assumption. My mistake. But other than doing some theater in high school…”

  Her shoulders stiffened.

  “You’ve had no professional training,” he concluded. His right hand lifted. Tapped against the edge of his desk. “Tell me, how fun was it to perform the role of Desdemona?”

  “Getting strangled by my lover? Not exactly a highlight but I did get a standing ovation.”

  Damn. She was going to keep him on his toes. He’d thought the casual comment would throw her off guard, make her realize he now knew far too much about her, but she’d just shrugged like it was nothing.

  She needed to stop fascinating him.

  “Am I supposed to be impressed that you know how to use the Internet and do a search on someone?” Her eyes widened. She made a clicking sound with her tongue. “Shocking. What a genius you must be.”

  “My search was a bit more thorough.”

  “Of course. Because if you aren’t throwing your money around to tear into an unsuspecting woman’s life for shits and giggles, then what is the point of being so wealthy?”

  “You don’t like me.”

  Another shrug.

  “You think I’m a killer.” His hand moved away from the desk. Clenched near his lap. Like I don’t get accused of this crap every other day. “Have you and your friends decided that I’m next on your hit list?”

  Caution stole across her features. “My friends?”

  “Um. That online team you have. You and your group, sitting at your computers, trying to solve crimes. I guess I was the next name on your list?”

  She surged toward him, then seemed to catch herself. “You’re mocking me.”

  “And you’re hunting me. Hardly something that I find amusing. Especially when you are wasting my time.”

  Her mouth opened. Closed. Her delicate nostrils flared. “You’re the one who asked me to show up today. If anyone is having time wasted, it’s me.” Her breath came fast. A little too fast. Finally, he’d surprised her by knowing about her team. He’d have to give Oz a bonus for uncovering that particular detail.

  Archer’s head cocked as he studied her. “You think you can catch killers.”

  “I don’t think I can. I know that I can. I’ve done it before. I’ve solved four cold cases. Cases that the cops had stopped investigating. I found the bodies. I have helped to get killers arrested. This isn’t some game to me.” Now she stalked toward him. Her hands flattened on the desk as she leaned toward him. “This is real life. My life.”

  Only the desk separated them. “This is your life because you’re a reporter. You like to chase stories.”

  Her delicate nostrils flared once more. “I prefer the term investigative journalist.”

  “Um, I’m sure you do. You report under the name of Lila Darrow. Mostly web pieces. With a face like yours, I’m surprised that you aren’t on every TV in the country.”

  Anger flashed on her face. “I’m not looking for a spotlight. I just want to do my job.”

  Her job. Now they were getting someplace. “Yes, about that…”

  “My background made me a prime candidate to focus on true crime. In college, I studied coursework in psychology and criminal justice. I—”

  “You’re obsessed with killers. You like to pick apart their minds. See what drove them to commit crimes. You try to understand their motivation and behavior. Try to see if they’re sane or just completely crazy. And you do all of this under the guise of writing your stories.” He leaned toward her but didn’t rise from his chair. Not yet. “You were examining your killers. Learning all about them, writing their stories, and then, bam, you started hunting them.”

  “I started hunting the missing. They are my focus. When I find the missing, they just happened to lead me and my—lead me to the killers.”

  Interesting. She’d almost said “lead me and my team”—he was sure of it, but she’d caught herself. “So for you, it’s about the missing?” And finally, he rose.

  She stiffened but didn’t back up.

  The damn desk was in the way. He wanted to be closer to her. But when he was close, Archer had to fight the urge to touch her. When he’d danced with her the previous night, his fingers had skimmed against the skin of her back. Her skin had felt like the softest silk.

  Be careful. Skin that soft will bruise easily.

  “I want the missing to come home,” she responded doggedly.

  He was sure that she did. “Because your sister never came home?”

  Red stained her cheeks. “Do you think bringing up my sister is going to hurt me? I knew before I walked in that you would find out about her. When you search my name, the first hit has to be about her.”

  Yes, it did. The photograph he’d glimpsed before on her mantel—a smiling Delilah with her arm thrown around the shoulders of a blonde who’d appeared to be about the same age. Delilah’s fraternal twin.

  Layla Darrow had disappeared five years ago. Despite a massive search, she’d never been found.

  “I’m sorry about your sister,” he said gruffly. “Losing her must have hurt very much.”

  Her lashes—thick and dark—swept down to cover her eyes. “I’ll find her one day.”

  Yes, he believed that she would. “I can help finance that search.”

  Her lashes flew back up.

  “As you have pointed out, I have way too much cash. I can help finance your search efforts.”

  “Are you trying to bribe me? Is that what you did before? Bribe people so your problems vanished?”

  She was so fucking gorgeous. And she clearly had the lowest possible opinion of him. An opinion she wasn’t hiding. “Are you going to be a problem for me?” he asked coolly.

  “One hundred percent. Consider yourself warned.”

  “I’m shaking.” He wasn’t. If anything, he was like a damn moth drawn to the flame that was Delilah.

  Those bright eyes of hers narrowed. “You will be shaking.”

  He put his hands on the desk. Settled them right next to each of hers. But he didn’t touch her. He wasn’t ready for that electric jolt again. Not until they had an agreement in place. “It’s not a bribe. It’s a payment for a job. You shouldn’t run around accusing people of crimes like bribery without evidence. You might piss off the wrong person with an allegation like that.”

  Her plump lips pressed together.

  “You look at me, and you see a killer.” He knew exactly what she saw when she stared at him. Unfortunate. Too many others saw the same thing. Archer was tired of that shit.

  “You don’t know what I see,” Delilah fired back.

  “You have me in your sights. You’re here to take me down.” Not like she’d be the first. The others had failed. So would the lovely Delilah.

  But she shook her head. “No, I’m here to find Vanessa. That’s my first step. I told you, I look for the missing.”

  “And you think you can find her by getting close to me? By wearing a sexy dress and putting yourself in my path?” He raised his eyebrows and let the doubt seep into his voice. “Come now, that is hardly—”

  “You followed me from the ball. You couldn’t let me get away. How do you know that is not exactly what I intended to happen?”

  His gaze sharpened on her.

  “I don’t normally wear dresses that cost more than my first car—that was a loaner last night—but I needed it because I knew you would only be drawn to a certain type of woman.”

  He would have been drawn to her no matter what she wore. Fuck the dress. “Not true at all.”

  “I had to wear the right dress to get inside the big, fancy party. Not like I had one of those thousand-dollar invitations. You were there. I had to be there, too. Then I had to make sure I captured your attention.” She glanced around the office. “I’d consider it captured.”

  Damn straight it was. Archer was completely locked on her.

  Her bright gaze returned to him. “You like a challenge. I gave you one from the first minute I spoke. I made sure you were amped up and ready for the auction. Drove your emotions to the edge. You see, the rest of the world may think that ice runs through your veins, but I know differently.”

  “And how the hell do you know that?” Like he didn’t realize what the others said about him. Ice cold bastard.

  Her hand lifted. Her palm pressed to his cheek.

  The damn jolt slid through him. His eager cock surged toward her. She is so much more dangerous than I expected. Or maybe he’d just gone too long without a lover. But it was hard to let anyone close when you knew everyone was working an angle.

  Delilah offered him a tight smile. “How about we just say that I know my monsters?”

  “I’m not a monster.” Is that what she thinks I am?

  “You’re a passionate man, Archer. You do value control above all else. But when your control breaks, I suspect it can be a terrifying sight to witness.”

  “If you’re afraid of me, why are you touching me right now?” Why the hell was he enjoying her touch so much?

  A sharp knock sounded at the door. Before he could say anything, it flew open, and Oz popped his head inside. “Archer, we need to go over—oh.”

  Archer and Delilah were inches apart. She was cupping his check. For all the world, he knew it looked as if they were about to kiss. Behind Oz, he could see Casey’s straining features.

  “I told him you were busy!” Casey called out. “So sorry, boss!”

  “Normally, he’s never too busy for me.” Oz grimaced. “But I can see this is a different circumstance. My mistake. I’ll come back.” He yanked the door closed.

  Perfect. Archer could not have set the scene better if he’d tried. But he didn’t let his satisfaction show. He was still working an angle with Delilah. There was no point in revealing all of his cards to her yet.

  Her hand slowly slid away from him. For an instant, he could have sworn he felt the warmth of her touch linger on his skin. When you were cold all the damn time, you enjoyed a bit of warmth.

  “One hundred thousand dollars,” he said deliberately.

  She blinked. “That’s what you paid for the Tear last night.”

  It was. It was also… “That’s what I’ll pay you.”

  Delilah took an unsteady step back. “I’m trying to make certain that I follow along correctly here. Are you attempting to buy me?”

  “I’m offering you payment for a job. I told you, I can help you continue that fun crime-solving gig you enjoy so much.”

  “Don’t mock me.” Flat. For the first time, real emotion broke through her voice. “Nothing I do is a joke. Real lives are on the line. Real people.”

  People like your sister? He nodded. “Fair enough. I apologize.”

  Her gaze turned suspicious.

  “You wanted to catch my attention last night. You made yourself into—what did you call it—”

  “I became a woman you’d want.”

  He didn’t touch that statement, but the truth was…I would want you anywhere, any way. Anytime. “Others saw the same thing when we were together last night. They saw our attraction.”

  “Our?” She pounced on that word choice.

  He had to laugh. “Really? Going to pretend that you didn’t feel it, too? You might hate my guts, but when I had you on the dance floor, you trembled in my arms.” He waited for a denial.

  None came. Interesting. It would work well for him if she didn’t deny her attraction. And this way, I know it’s not one-sided. Not that he intended to do anything about that desire. As alluring as the fantasy of fucking her on his desk was…there were other matters that had to come first.

  But she’d be incredible spread out for me on—

  “Get to the point.” Delilah lifted a slender wrist and stared at her watch. “I have other things to do today. I can’t just entertain a bored billionaire forever.”

  She had bite, and he enjoyed it. “You’re perfect. You’re exactly who I need at my side. For one hundred thousand dollars, I want you to pretend to be involved with me.”

  “Excuse me?” Her mouth had dropped.

  He waited for her to pick up her lovely jaw from the floor. “You heard me. I spoke quite clearly. You’ll pretend to be involved with me.”

  “Are you that hard up for a date? Granted, you haven’t been tied romantically to anyone in quite some time, but I was sure you picked up the random one-night stand here and there.”

  “I manage to have sex just fine when I want it, thanks. This isn’t about sex.” He let his gaze slide over her delectable body. “Sorry to disappoint you.”

  “Disappoint me? Disappoint me?” Her voice rose.

  It’s nice to see her lose control. “I said I wanted you to pretend to be involved with me. Pretend. I don’t pay for sex. Never have. Never will.”

  “Tell that to the bimbos who let you throw diamonds at them.”

  His jaw locked. “If we have sex, it will have nothing to do with the current arrangement we are making.”

  “We are not having sex.”

  Archer shrugged, as if the matter held no importance for him. “I need everyone else to think that we are passionately involved. That I need to have you close to me at all times. You will move into my house. You’ll accompany me to every important function I attend.”

  Delilah nibbled her lower lip. “You understand this isn’t normal, correct?”

  Nothing about his world was normal. “In exchange for doing this, you’ll have an all-access pass to my life.” He turned away from her. Walked to the window. His hands fell down to his sides. “You can poke and prod and do your best to find evidence that proves I’m a cold-blooded killer.”

  A shocked silence filled the room behind him.

  “But you won’t find that evidence,” he continued as he stared outside. “Because despite what you think—what so many think—I didn’t hurt Vanessa. I have no idea where she is.” Though he would very much like to find her.

  “You were the only suspect named by the police.”

  He could see the grim reflection of his smile in the glass. “Come now, you know I was only a person of interest. That’s not the same as being a suspect.”

  “Isn’t it?”

  “The person who hurt her is still out there.”

  “How do you know she was hurt? If you didn’t do it, then maybe she just ran away…wasn’t that one theory you told the police?”

  How he knew she’d been hurt—he would get to that momentarily. “I want to draw out the person who made Vanessa vanish.” He turned back toward Delilah. “I thought you might be interested in assisting with that process.”

  Her hair slid over her shoulders as her head tilted. “How will you draw this individual out?”

  “By having a new victim for him.” He stared at her. Waited.

  Her brow furrowed. “Me?”

  “Yes. I have an idea about why Vanessa was taken. And it is a whole lot less about her and more about me.”

  Delilah rolled her eyes. “Oh, shocker. Everything is about the billionaire…in his own mind.”

  He let that jibe pass. “If the attacker thinks that I have grown close to someone else, if he thinks that I’m moving forward, it is my belief that he will come out again. He wants to hurt me. That’s my theory. To hurt me…” His sentence trailed away as he waited for her to connect the dots.

  “He…what? Targets people you’re close to?” Her laughter was bitter. “Nice. Way to make yourself look all innocent and tortured.”

  He returned to his desk. Opened the top drawer. Reached for a manila file. He pulled out the paper inside and slid it across the surface of his desk.

  Delilah sidled closer. Frowned down and read the words that had been typed on the page… “You don’t get to love.” Her head whipped up. “What the hell is this?”

  “It’s a note I found on my bed after I saw Vanessa for the last time.”

  Her jaw tightened. “This wasn’t in any of the reports I read from the police station—”

  And how had she gotten access to those? A question for another day. He had to get her cooperation first, then he’d see just what all Delilah and her team had discovered. “That’s because the police don’t know about it.”

  “Uh, why not?”

  “Because it was printed on my personal computer. At my home. Because my fingerprints were the only ones on it. Because the cops would have thought that I’d just created the damn thing myself to throw off suspicion.”

  “Did you?”

  “No.” Curt.

  “How do you know only your fingerprints were on it?”

  “Because I had it checked.”

  He put the paper back in the envelope. Carefully replaced the envelope in the drawer. Shut it.

  “Is…is this why you haven’t been seriously linked—romantically—to anyone since Vanessa vanished?”

  One of the reasons. He nodded. “If I’m right about this—”

  “If you’re right, you have a stalker. A person who thinks to control everything that you do. A person who doesn’t believe that you have the right to be with anyone else. A person who had access to your home.”

  A person who will pay. “If I’m right,” he continued doggedly. “Then when I move you into my life, he’ll attack.”

  “I’m assuming you will have protection on me?” Cool. Careful. “Not like I want to be the next one to vanish.”

  He stared into her eyes. The most incredible eyes he’d ever seen. “That won’t happen.” Gruff. There were a few important differences between her and Vanessa.

  Difference number one…Delilah will know a killer is coming.

  Difference two…Delilah won’t be fucking around on me.

  Archer cleared his throat. “It’s win, win for you. You get an all-access pass to my life, and you also get one hundred grand. If this is some con I’m working, surely an investigative journalist like yourself will figure things out fairly quickly. You’ll catch me in a lie. You’ll find evidence I hid. But if you don’t find that evidence, if you see that I’m being truthful with you…” He continued to hold her stare. “Then maybe you and I can make this partnership work. Maybe we can find the attacker. Maybe we can find Vanessa. Maybe we can make this all end.”

  Deliberately, Archer moved around the desk and closed the distance between them. He saw her shoulders tense, but she didn’t retreat. He kept closing in until he was right before her. His hand lifted. “Do we have a deal?”