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shifty exterior. Rose didn’t know whether to be flattered or offended that Joe had picked her for the job. Did he think she was trustworthy and clever enough to take the position? Or did he think she was so dense that she wouldn’t possibly unscramble the conundrum that was his business? Joe certainly regarded her with a measure of respect, never talking down to her. He often even complimented her on her wit and ability to quickly learn new techniques.
    Her mind was constantly running in circles, unable to put him out of her thoughts for very long. And at night, when she lay in bed, she allowed her mind to run wild.
    He was such a mystery—the epitome of tall, dark, and handsome.
    Not to mention dangerous.
    That much she knew to be true, even without any detailed evidence to back it up. Not long after starting her position with Joe, she had begun to pick away at his claim that he was simply a private investigator. It was true that being a PI was a hazardous career choice. He had his associates do the research for him so he could do the bulk of the field-work himself. Constantly having to sneak around, hiding in the shadows, discovering the sleaziest back-alley deals… there was a reason why it made a good front. To the outside observer, it would appear that Joe Sanford’s injuries and his secrecy were all just part of his job investigating affairs and tailing dangerous, powerful clients.
    But Rose knew it was something more than that. It had to be. He was more than that. She bit her lip and closed her eyes tightly, her mind conjuring an image of him in his typical work ensemble: black, black, and more black. She vividly recalled how powerful he looked even as he was sprawled out in a hospital bed the day they first met. He had been like a wounded beast: temporarily weakened but still bristling with an unspeakable wildness just itching to burst free.
    She wondered what it was like when he did let loose.
    Lying in bed, she sighed and reached under the sheets, her hand trailing down to the warmth between her thighs. She slipped her fingers inside her silky panties and began to gently stroke herself, thinking of Joe. She wanted so badly to feel his muscular arms wrap around her, lift her up and take her the way she knew he really could. There was so much Rose wanted to do with him.
    But it was inappropriate, and she knew it.
    He was her boss.
    And she absolutely could not do anything to risk losing this job. It was the first streak of good luck she’d come across in a very long time and she was not about to throw it all away over a crush.
    Keep yourself together, she thought to herself as she withdrew her fingers from her aching clit and turned over in bed, willing herself to fall asleep. But even when she finally fell into unconsciousness, her dreams were filled with visions of Joe’s glistening, hard body.
    Hours later, she awoke in a cold sweat, gasping as she sat up in bed. Her heart raced and she looked around, blinking in the darkness, recovering from a nightmare that was already slipping away out of memory. Rose couldn’t recall what she’d been dreaming about, only that there had been someone—no, some thing —chasing her.
    Something big and strong and ferocious.
    Something that was hungry for a taste of her blood.
    She jumped in fear when the alarm clock on the nightstand went off before smacking it into silence. She took a deep breath and began her morning routine of showering, dressing, then getting the girls ready for the day.
    After kissing Emma and Cassidy and waving goodbye to her parents, Rose headed off to catch the bus to work. She got into the office just as Joe was leaving for an early morning meeting of some sort.
    Or at least that’s what he called it.
    She somehow doubted that he would ever need to meet a client at eight in the morning, especially since as far as she knew, there wasn’t anything scheduled. Rose was the one who set up his meetings, but Joe still slipped out for last-minute