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“Really?”
    “Really.”
    Becky wiped her hand over her eyes and squared her shoulders. “Okay. Let’s go have dinner.” She hurried out of the room and after sharing a concerned glance, her parents followed.
    Alone in the family room, Logan put his hand on Ella’s arm and said softly, “Thank you.”
    Ella shrugged, trying to ignore how close Logan was standing, how sensitive the skin under his fingers had suddenly become, and trying to distract herself with what she knew. Her job. “There’s a very good chance it’s true. Yes, the killer had probably been watching Theresa, but it looks like the abduction was an ambush. Someone who does that probably isn’t confident. It’s unlikely he approached his victims first.”
    She took a deep breath, aware that she’d been talking too fast, that Logan hadn’t taken his hand off her arm. Was it her imagination or had he shifted closer? She could smell his aftershave, something woodsy that made her want to close her eyes and inhale. She tilted her head back a little farther, gazing up into his eyes.
    The moss green that had drawn her in from the moment she met him was just a small ring around his pupils now. The desire in his eyes seemed to heat her whole body.
    She wasn’t sure if she stretched up on her tiptoes or he leaned down, but his lips were inches from hers, his breath on her face. One hand moved from her arm to the back of her head and he slipped his other hand onto her lower back, pulling her closer.
    He gave her plenty of time to do the professional thing and back away, but instead she swayed forward and pressed her mouth to his. The stubble on his chin felt abrasive, but his lips were soft as they slowly brushed hers, as though he was determined to memorize every millimeter.
    She was the one who insisted on more, who fused her body tightly to his until he slid his tongue between her lips and backed her against the wall. She wove her fingers through his hair and clung tightly to him as his mouth covered hers. Only a loud clink of silverware against china brought her to her senses.
    She turned her head away from Logan’s and pried her hands off him. Her legs shook and her face burned even hotter as she met his eyes.
    He was breathing as heavily as she was. His eyes were hooded, but she could still see passion there, and she got the feeling that if she asked, he’d forget dinner and follow her back to her hotel.
    She actually didn’t know if she was going to suggest it until she heard herself say instead, “Sorry. That was a mistake.”
    Logan blinked, shoved his hands in his pockets, and stared at her. Finally, he gave her that sexy, one-sided grin and winked. “Then try to keep your hands off me.” He ran a hand over hair she’d mussed, then headed for the dining room. “Let’s go to dinner.”
    Ella followed more slowly, trying to will her pulse back to a normal rate. Get it together, Cortez.
    She didn’t have time to mess around. There was a killer on the loose. And if she was right and it was the same person who’d raped Maggie back in college, he wasn’t going to stay in Florida forever. He’d be going somewhere else soon, looking for a new victim to dangle in front of the FBI, and she’d lose her shot at him.
    She owed it to Maggie—and Scott and herself—to catch this guy. Especially since, after almost a decade of silence, the Fishhook Rapist had sent Maggie a letter. As a profiler, Ella knew that unexpected contact like that could be a precursor to physical contact. Much as Maggie had tried to play it cool, Ella knew her friend was secretly terrified. And right now, Ella might have the chance to end Maggie’s years of silent, buried fear.
    It didn’t matter what Logan Greer did to her libido. She was going to have to figure out how to resist him.

Chapter Four
    “How did Logan get the FBI to give him a profiler?” Hank O’Connor leaned against the door frame, blocking Ella’s entrance to the Oakville police station with his