Free Beneath a Darkening Moon by Keri Arthur Page B

touch—all they dared here in public. “He hurt you once. Don’t let him do it again.”
    She smiled, wishing she could lean across the table and kiss him. Wishing she was free to love him as he deserved to be loved.
    Then he leaned back in the chair, creating space between them once again for the sake of those who were undoubtedly watching. “If this madman is planning to come after you, you may need protection.”
    “What I need is to catch this person before he can kill again.”
    He nodded. “Still, I’ll start looking at security precautions for your apartment, just in case.”
    “Fine.” He’d do it anyway, even if she told him not to.
    He rose. “You know my number if you need me.”
    She nodded, watching him walk out the door. Why couldn’t fate allow her to fall for someone like Ronan? Someone who had more caring and tenderness in his little finger than Cade had in his entirebody? It wasn’t fair. But then, who said life had to be fair?
    She glanced at her watch and grimaced. Time to go meet the man she couldn’t quite hate, as much as she might want to.
    T HERE WERE TWO bars in Ripple Creek, and Cade was surprised to discover that neither was buzzing with news of the murders. Somehow, the rangers had kept a lid on it, even though towns like this usually thrived on gossip.
    He finished his beer, taking his time as his gaze scanned the semi-crowded room, his foot tapping to the thumping beat of music. Everyone here in the Blue Nights seemed to be after nothing more than a good time, either chatting in large groups or squeezing onto the already crowded dance floor. Besides himself, there didn’t appear to be any loners, or even anyone his cop senses would have labeled as suspicious. But then, in all his years as an IIS officer, he’d never had a suspect who actually looked suspicious. They’d always been average Joes, or family men. Someone who didn’t beg more than a cursory glance.
    Someone like Jontee.
    Whether the same pattern would apply here in Ripple Creek was anyone’s guess, but he suspected the murderer would be as hard to catch as any other. But, in some ways, he couldn’t be sorry about that. Sure, he wanted this case solved before anyone else got killed, but he was more than willing to draw out his time with Vannah. They’d always been sexuallycompatible—and he had the five nights of the moon promise she still owed him.
    He placed his empty glass on the table and rose, nodding good night to the bartender as he strolled outside.
    Under the cold light of the barely visible moon, the heat in his veins seemed to sharpen until his whole body ached with the fierceness of desire. He glanced at his watch and cursed softly when he saw it was only eleven. He was tempted to call her and demand that they move up their meeting. He
could
do it. The moon gave the male that power.
    But he’d made her a promise not to use the moon magic again—and until it suited him to do otherwise, he intended to keep that promise.
    He turned right, heading for Meadows Road, even though he still had an hour to kill. If she was feeling the moon anywhere near as strongly as he, she’d be there already, waiting. And arriving early would give him more time to enjoy her luscious body.
    He shoved his hands into his pockets as he strolled down Main Street. Ripple Creek, unlike many of the reservations, hadn’t moved with the times, and still retained much of its old-fashioned architecture. And, if what he’d heard about the council was true, they’d also kept many of the old-school ideals when it came to sex. Which was odd, considering a Sinclair pack lived on the reservation—and the Sinclairs had a wild, hedonistic reputation that he knew was thoroughly deserved.
    Which, in turn, probably explained Levon Grant’s popularity. Licentious behavior often existed hand in hand with old-fashioned conservatism.
    It was hard to imagine Vannah being Grant’s daughter, though—especially since she’d been one of Jontee