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into the restroom, and now walked out, hoping he’d buy that and not suspect her of being up to no good.
    God, I really didn’t mean any harm. I need to send an email.
    She stepped out into the hallway. He was standing by the door, looking in her direction.
    Unexpectedly, at the sight of him, the air was slammed out of her lungs. He looked so forlorn it ripped her heart to shreds. Burying baby Buck’s mother had not been an easy task for him.
    And I’m such a bitch for betraying his trust by going into his fancy computer room behind his back.
    She wasn’t planning anything evil. She just needed to send that email.
    That’s it.
    His dark eyes speared through her, directly into her soul. There was a hunger in his eyes that called to the very being of her. It was as if a silent siren’s song called to her, bringing her dangerously close to him.
    Confused, she shook her head to break the trance of his gaze. She chewed on her lip, wishing he’d say something, yet unable to come up with something to say herself.
    This has to be sleep deprivation. Whatever is going on isn’t real.
    But it was real. He walked slowly her way, his stride reminding her of a predator’s. His broad chest rose with every deep breath, making muscles ripple.
    She was so aware of his body, she became unaware of anything else but the tunnel in which he was the very center. The hunger in his stare called to her, pulling her deeper and deeper.
    “It’s done.” He let the words out with the finality of a hammer.
    Tears of hopelessness for the fawn sprung to her eyes.
    He took a step closer. His body looming, blocking the light from the front living area.
    If she were honest with herself, it was more than the fawn.
    He took another step, that chest of his expanding with another breath.
    It was the lack of sleep.
    He took another step.
    It was fear.
    It was the lack of justice for her father’s murder.
    He was almost close enough to touch.
    Mostly, it was that she’d lost her father—her very best friend.
    Another step and he was so close, the warmth of his body emanated.
    A tear she couldn’t hold back, one damned, telltale, betraying tear slipped out from the confines of her eyelashes and trailed its fugitive way down her cheek.
    She didn’t even want to swipe at it because she’d rather he didn’t notice it.

Chapter Ten
    C ross saw the tear . Of course he did. Shifter vision allowed him to see in the dark. It gave him better vision than a bird of prey.
    But her tears weren’t the only thing weighing on him.
    His bear’s insistence that they fix what was troubling Ariadne was pulling at him. His inner animal kept pushing against him, harder and harder, insisting on a shift.
    That will scare the hell out of her. She doesn’t know what we are.
    And yet the bear pushed, insisting that if Cross wasn’t going to find out what was on the flash drive, it would take action. He glanced at the door to the comm room, between the two of them.
    I’ll get to the bottom of this, just back off for a bit, he told his bear.
    Three strides later he was in front of the door, but still facing her.
    He reached for the knob, his gaze still locked with hers.
    “Don’t,” she whispered.
    He cocked his head. “Why not?”
    “Please.”
    “Will you tell me what you were going to do?”
    A long pause, so quiet that he could hear the drip of the faucet in the kitchen sink. He’d planned to fix that today.
    Before his plans were derailed.
    Drip.
    By a trapped fawn.
    Drip.
    By a woman in need.
    Drip.
    By a trip to the vet.
    Drip.
    By a grave he never should have had to dig.
    Drip.
    She’d chewed her bottom lip from a pale pink to a tormented red. “I was going to send an email.”
    He turned the knob. “What email?
    She gulped, her throat working. Finally, she spoke, “I can’t. I can’t say it.”
    He pushed the door open a few inches.
    A sob escaped her, sounding like it was ripped from the very bowels of the deepest pain a woman could go through.
    He