Free Avenging Angel by Tara Janzen

recognize him, and her surprise turned into a subtle excitement he felt even at fifteen feet.
    “Mr. Erickson,” she said, lowering her gaze and fiddling with the papers on the desk. “You’re working late.”
    “So are you.” He walked deeper into the room, closer to the pool of soft light surrounding the desk and her. “I saw the lights, but I didn’t expect to find you.”
    She laughed, a gently self-deprecating sound, and slanted him a quick glance. “I should have been gone hours ago.”
    “I’ll walk you to your car,” he said, continuing across the room and stopping at the desk. He was close, closer than he’d ever been. Close enough to touch.
    “That won’t be necessary,” she said, gathering up her papers. “I’m in the executive parking garage.”
    “You’ll be safer with me.” He wasn’t going to let her leave alone. The opportunity was too ripe. He’d waited too long.
    She slowly lifted her lashes to meet his eyes, and he felt anticipation build inside him.
    “I’m not so sure about that,” she said softly.
    She was right, but Dylan had never expected to hear her admit it. He let the silence lengthen, telling himself he was a fool—but he couldn’t resist. With the barest movement of his hand, he reached to her waist and pulled out the rest of her white silk blouse. The material cascaded into his fingers, feeling rich and soft, and warm from her body.
    He held her gaze with his own, gauging her response in the faint mask of color spreading across her face. He heard her breath grow shallow. She wet her lips, and his groin tightened. It had been so easy to make her change her mind. It had taken nothing at all.
    Her acceptance of his touch was a warm seduction to a heart that had been living outside the boundaries of truth for longer than he cared to remember. He grazed his fingers across the silky skin of her waist and forced himself to go no farther.
    He wanted her with an ache he could feel pounding through his veins with every pulse beat. Every moment she allowed him to touch her was proof that she wanted him too. But he was a force of destruction.
    His gaze slipped to her lips, and temptation made his mouth go dry. He was in over his head, way over his head, and if he didn’t leave, he was going to drown in the hot sweetness of her.
    “Dane . . .” she whispered, wanting him—but wanting the wrong man.
    He closed his eyes and cursed softly, then, with an iron will, he turned and walked away. . . .
    * * *
    His memories did him no good. She was alone with him now and he was farther away than ever from what he wanted.
    “How long have you been with the FBI?” she asked, as if she, too, realized that what they might have had was now out of reach.
    “Twelve years.”
    “Do you have any identification?”
    A short, damning silence preceded his reply. “I left my badge in my other pants.”
    Johanna set the antibiotic cream aside and picked up the first-aid tape. She’d known he was lying about the FBI. He was exactly what she’d thought he was and nothing more. Her hands started shaking again.
    “What do you want with me?” she asked. “What does Austin want?”
    “Austin wants you dead.”
    She lowered her chin to her chest. What he said was impossible, unthinkable, yet she knew he was telling her the truth.
    “And you?”
    “I want you alive.”
    It didn’t make sense.
    She looked up and met his intense gaze in the mirror. He was watching her, waiting for her response. Now that he was clean and shaved, it was easy to remember why she had found him so attractive, so dangerously attractive. His face had a mischievous appeal, despite the deadly serious type of mischief he instigated. He had never made her uneasy like some of Austin’s other bodyguards. No, the way he had made her uneasy was very private and exclusive—and he was still doing it. She had to be crazy.
    “Does Austin know you’ve betrayed him?” she asked.
    “I left him a message in Lincoln, Nebraska,”