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Yeah, he was nothing like Ethan Reynolds. He’d proven that over and over, and she finally got it.

And she had never wanted to sleep with Ethan, but she wanted Ben.

“Someone want to walk me through this again?” the detective asked even though she and Ben both had set out the whole scenario. So had the victims on the stairs and the security guards who had rushed to the scene. The hospital had finally settled back into its normal rhythm again.

Everyone agreed a guy dressed in black had fled the scene. For whatever reason, Glenn Willoughby didn’t accept that as the full truth.

“Guy with gun attacked.” Ben breathed in deeply, then wrapped an arm around his middle when he tried to exhale. “He got away. End of story.”

The detective stared at Ben, hesitating and giving him the silent treatment for what felt like an hour, before he looked at her again. “Ms. Raine, I’m thinking this all connects to you.”

“Brilliant deduction.”

“Ben.” She said his name in warning at the same time Connor did.

This was not the time to take on the police. She didn’t like the detective, either. Something about the ever-present smirk and the know-it-all looks. Then again, she wasn’t a fan of police in general. The idea of them, she loved. The reality of what she’d faced made her question the ones she’d seen on television and in movies.

The dislike seemed to run both ways. Detective Willoughby had made his position clear on Corcoran and his feelings on outside companies getting involved in crime solving, which Ben assured her was the normal reaction.

But the detective also stared at her when he should have been looking at other things. Not in a sexual way. More as a sneer.

He put his hands on his hips. “Any reason someone would want to kill you?”

“We’re working on that,” Connor said.

That had the detective aiming his furious gaze in Connor’s direction. “I believe I explained to you that this is police business.”

“She’s one of us.” Ben delivered the words without blinking. He could barely stand up straight, but his steely gaze all but dared the detective to challenge.

Willoughby did anyway. “What does that mean?”

She wondered the same thing.

“We’ll protect her,” Connor said, backing up Ben.

The detective’s smirk rose to full wattage as he turned to face her again. “And who are you protecting exactly?”

Jocelyn felt the bottom drop out of her stomach. Slam right to the floor, taking most of her insides with it. The room buzzed and she would have gone down if Ben hadn’t grabbed her arm and leaned her against his warm body.

“What are you talking about?” she asked.

“Care to tell them, Ms. Raine?” The detective lifted an eyebrow. The dare was there in his voice and his expression. “I’d call you by your real name, but I don’t know it.”

The bomb dropped. No one moved. Connor spared her a quick glance but Ben didn’t react at all to the cryptic information.

No way would she let this guy, this detective she didn’t know and who took far too much pleasure in her discomfort, set the terms for her reveal. The news was private and terrible and something she wanted to forget. It would not become a line in his report or something he could play with to try to get the upper hand.

She lifted her chin. “Jocelyn Raine is my real name.”

That wasn’t a lie. She’d changed it legally. A closed-door, filed-under-seal case in another county, but she’d gone through all the legal channels once she was guaranteed the information would be almost impossible to find.

“What did it used to be?” the detective asked.

And she knew the guarantee about privacy had been blown. If this guy knew, Ethan might know. The reality of what that meant sent a tremor of fear shaking through her bones.

Ben’s arm tightened around her. “You heard her. She gave you her name.”

But Ben had to know what this meant. He was a smart man. The idea of him backing her up helped her spine stiffen again. She’d been through so much. She could get through this, too.

Faced with a wall of support against him, the detective’s hubris dimmed a bit. “The woman you are so keen on protecting has some secrets. My guess is those secrets followed her to Annapolis. That makes them relevant to
my
case.”

“That’s not true.” She refused to let that be true. Ethan Reynolds was in prison. He wasn’t out and she knew because she checked every week.

“Then tell me who you really are.”

She didn’t move. “Jocelyn Raine.”

Chapter Eight

Ben sat on the edge of the bed, the one in the second-floor guest room of the Corcoran Team building, also known as Connor’s house. Ben had showered and changed into an extra pair of jeans and one of Connor’s tees. Not his bedroom. Ben had slept here earlier, right after the NCIS scandal broke. He’d only recently moved into his own place when he moved from Quantico to Annapolis, but Connor’s house provided security and Ben knew how vital that could be when everything blew apart.

Between rounds of questioning by Willoughby and a status report from Joel, it had taken hours to get everyone moved around and settled in.

The bottom story of the brick Federal-style building housing the Corcoran offices had closed down for the night. The second floor was alive with activity, or at least three adults sitting in three separate rooms.

Ben stayed in his assigned space, stewing and fighting back the urge to storm across the hall and knock on the door. He’d wasted precious time tonight getting fussed over by Jocelyn...or whatever her name was. She changed his bandages and re-stitched his stomach, all while Joel watched over them. Hard to get privacy with everyone milling around.

By the time Connor shut the lights off and declared work off-limits, Ben was itching to grab her. Being close to her for hours, while she wore an overly sunny smile and pretended the conversation with the detective hadn’t happened, had worn down Ben’s defenses. He fought back a nasty adrenaline rush and struggled to hold on to his temper.

In the past, when he raised his voice, she had shut down. He needed her listening and talking.

Whoever she really was.

He rubbed a hand over his face and groaned. Not that he cared if she’d made a name change. He understood if something in her past required it, but she knew they were facing down danger and to not share a piece of information endangered them all. He had no idea how he could protect her if she refused to trust him.

And that was what really ticked him off. She held back. Maybe fear no longer dulled the sheen to her eyes, but she kept him at a distance. He wanted in.

He was so lost in his thoughts he almost missed the light knock on the door. When it opened before he could call out, he stretched out and reached for the knife under the pillow. A new habit he’d picked up thanks to hanging around Davis. The man was an expert knife thrower, with Pax a close second.

But Ben wasn’t thinking about either of them now. Jocelyn stood in the small space. The dark hallway cast her in shadows but Ben could make out the tiny T-shirt that didn’t even reach the top of her shorts. A sliver of smoking-hot skin peeked out, giving him a look at her stomach. Vibrant red hair fell over those breasts.

He was a dead man.

“Can I come in?” she asked in a voice barely above a whisper.

He couldn’t find his voice, so he nodded as he sat up again. He’d been thinking about her, letting his anger fester, only seconds ago. Now he saw her standing there, curling her bare toes into the carpet as she waited for permission to walk in.

His brain misfired. Every intelligent argument raced out of his head and took most of the blood up there with them.

She walked over and didn’t stop until her knees tapped against his jeans. She stood so close he had to lean back to see her face when he looked up.

She smoothed a hand over his cheek and scratched her thumb over his stubble. “I wanted company.”

No way was he going to survive this. The urge to wrap his arms around her legs and drag her down to the mattress swamped him.

He had to swallow twice before any words came out. “Now is probably not a good time to talk.”

Hell, he couldn’t even think. Seeing her, smelling her, having her so close he could touch her made his lower half pound with need.

That thumb skimmed over his bottom lip and she gave him a small smile. “Good.”

Before he could mentally recite the alphabet or come up with mundane conversation, she lowered her head and her hair cascaded around her. It brushed over his cheek as she dipped in close and captured his mouth with hers.

There was nothing subtle about that kiss. She held the back of his neck and kept him close as her lips moved over his. When she lifted her head, he sat up straighter and brought her back down to him again.

His hands slid up the outsides of her bare thighs. Her skin warmed under his fingertips and his head pounded as he outlined the lean muscle running up her legs. Smooth and silky, as sexy as he’d fantasized she’d be.

She broke off the kiss and stared down at him with half-closed eyes. “Let me stay.”

The request shot through him and his erection strained against the back of his zipper. He should be a gentleman and tell her about adrenaline in the after-rush of violence and how it sometimes hit like desire. How they should wait.

He should have but he was too busy dragging her down onto his lap.

Her knees fell to either side of his hips and her arms wrapped around his neck. As if reading his mind, she spoke up. “I know what I’m doing.”

“Then tell me.” His hands roamed up her back, slipping under the edge of the slim shirt and caressing the bare skin underneath.

“Being with you.” She leaned in and kissed his chin, trailing a line to his throat.

He moved his head to give her access, but he had to ask, “Why?”

That hot mouth licked around his ear. “Do you want me, Ben?”

He shifted her on his lap until his erection pressed against her. The move had him groaning. “Do you have to ask?”

“I waited.” She kissed his nose. “I tried to hold back.” Then the space under each eye. “I don’t want to wait anymore.” She ended with her mouth hovering over his.

“Be sure.” He balanced his forehead against hers as he fought to hold on to his control. “I want you so much it will kill me to stop.”

He felt pressure against his shoulders and let his body fall. He dropped back against the bed, loving the way she asked for what she wanted. No games. No male/female garbage.

She straddled him with her palms pressed against the mattress on either side of his head. “I won’t want you to stop.”

The kisses got better each time. This one grew heated in a second. His hands traveled all over her, and her hair tickled his arms. He didn’t care if he ripped out his stitches or Connor tried to break down the door and barge in with a shotgun, this was happening. She was strong and sexy and smart and she knew what she wanted. If that was him, he was not going to do something stupid to turn that off.

Right when he thought about rolling her over, getting her under him as he’d been longing to do since the first time he saw her, she sat back on her heels. With her fingers at the edge of her shirt, she stripped the material up and off. No bra. Just perfect breasts, round and high. He cupped them, teased them. His thumbs ran over the nipples until her head dropped back.

The sight humbled him. This was the trust he needed from her. Maybe not with her secrets, but with her body. She didn’t hide or try to rush him. She let him explore her as her fingers went to his zipper.

A sharp ticking filled the room as she lowered it tooth by tooth. His erection spilled out and she wrapped her hand around him. His need for her swept over him like a wildfire.

When she lifted his shirt off, he didn’t say anything. Just lay there and let her undress him.

For a second her body froze as her finger traced the outline of the slice across his stomach. “Does this hurt?”

“No.” It wasn’t a lie but he would have told one to get her to keep going.

She pressed her body against him, chest against bare chest. Their bodies met everywhere but the thin scrap of skin of his injury. She kissed the evidence of the bullet graze on his shoulder. The touch stung, but he kept his mouth shut, focusing on how good the rest of her felt.

“Wounds of a hero.” She whispered the phrase as she kissed her way over his chest and up to his mouth.

He covered one of her hands with his and dragged her palm back to his erection. “This is what aches right now.”

“Poor baby.” She squeezed him until his eyes drifted shut. “I’ll do most of the work.”

He opened them again. “What?”

“Condom?”

“My bag.” He had to move. At some point his muscles had turned to pudding except for the part of him that thumped to the point of pain.

She crawled off and rolled down those shorts. Nothing under those, either. When she turned back, condom in hand, she was naked and he shook so hard he waited for the bed to move across the floor.

She sprawled out, half on top of him, half next to him. Her mouth skimmed his shoulder, all around the wound. “You’re injured.”

“I’ll be fine in a few minutes.” He just needed to be inside her.

He felt a tug and looked down. She pulled his jeans off, then crawled back up his legs again. She wrapped her hand around his shaft as her body slid over him. Her mouth met his as her fingers went to work on the condom. She slipped it on and then straddled him again.

His body snapped to attention. Every muscle and cell on alert. He wanted to grab her and pull her down on him, but he let her keep the lead. A part of him sensed she needed to be in control this first time.

Fine with him.

“Ready for me?” She breathed the question against his lips.

He kissed her then so blindingly deep and long that his breath stuttered inside him. She moaned and he licked his tongue inside her mouth. Giving her every chance to slow him down, he put his hands on her hips and guided her to his erection.

Their bodies took over then. She slid down, her mouth opening and her eyes growing wide as she took him inch by slow, aching inch. When he was finally completely inside her, he threw his head back against the pillows and clamped down hard to keep from thrusting. His body pulled tight and his muscles strained.

She brushed her mouth over his ear. “Ben?”

“Huh.” That was all he could say.

She smiled against his skin. “I need you to move.”

* * *

J
OCELYN
STARED
UP
at the ceiling. They’d made love twice and the time ticked somewhere past one in the morning. The pale yellow light of the lamp on the dresser gave the room a soft glow. So did the heavy breathing of the man snuggled against her with his face tucked in her hair and arm balanced across her stomach.

She’d made a choice tonight. The right one. Thanks to everything that happened and the way she’d locked down her life, she hadn’t been with any man in almost two years, but Ben was the right man.

She moved her leg along his calf. Even that part of him was solid. Not an ounce of fat on this guy.

His head popped up. The stormy pain that had lingered in his eyes when she first came in the bedroom was long gone. The stress lines no longer marked the area around his mouth.

Now she spied only satisfaction. And not a subtle hint of it, either. No, he wore the smile of a man who enjoyed sleeping with her.

Seemed only fair, since he looked at her and a healing warmth spread through her, relaxing every limb. Her body still tingled from the kissing and the touching.

Somewhere deep inside her, a light danced. He’d let her lead. Let her control their first time together. She had no idea how he knew, but he had, and that freedom to explore made her want to stay right where she was.

“Abigail Wyndam.”

He shifted slightly and frowned. “What?”

“That’s my real name.”

He pushed up on an elbow and balanced his upper body over hers. When he winced, she pushed him onto his back and came up over his chest.

“Your injury.” She whispered the reminder.

“Are you sure you want to talk about this now?”

The spin in the conversation didn’t throw her. He meant the name. “I was a nurse nowhere near here when a male neighbor decided he owned me.”

Ben’s body stiffened under her hand. “Jocelyn... I mean...”

She continued to brush her fingers over his skin, touching his chest and his throat, loving the feel of him. “I legally changed it. Use Jocelyn.”

He didn’t say anything after that. Didn’t pepper her with questions, even though he clearly wanted to. He somehow controlled his investigative nature and let her tell the story in her time.

She’d definitely chosen the right man.

“He started out friendly, then switched to a stalker. He acted like we were dating, though we never did.” The familiar anxiety started twisting in her gut. “He was a policeman, so I had nowhere to go. And I tried. Believe me, I tried.”

“You shouldn’t have had to. He should have stayed the hell away from you when you said no.”

Ben went so still she worried his bone would crack.

She touched his face. Gently, with the back of her hands. “What?”

The color drained from his cheeks. “I...I did that to you. I followed you and didn’t listen when you said no.”

“No.” She held his face in her hands. “Asking me out is not the same thing. I admit at first I was scared.”

“The gun. I showed up at the hospital.” He closed his eyes and when he opened them again the anguish was right there.

“You are not him. You never hurt me. You never threatened me.” When Ben just lay there unmoving with his body frozen, she leaned down and kissed him. “I know you never would.”

His arms wrapped around her and he pulled her tight against him. Those lips went to her hair. “I’m so sorry.”

“I wanted you. Even when I said no, I wanted you to keep asking.” She rubbed against him and felt his erection twitch.

He swore and shifted his body away.

She touched his hips and brought him back “It’s okay. Kind of flattering, actually. A natural reaction to our closeness, not the words.”

Ben dragged a hand through his hair. She could see the battle waging inside of him. He protected people, and this news had his head turning on the pillow.

His hand dropped. “I want to go pound this guy into the ground.”

Anger filled his voice but this time it didn’t scare her. This was about keeping her safe. She kissed him to let him know she understood, but when she lifted her upper body again, she saw pain and regret still haunted his eyes. “The man is in prison. His fellow officers backed him up, and so did his boss, until the day he broke into my house for the fourth time.”