“I’m afraid of losing you too,” she whispered. “Don’t you see? You worry about me and what happens if I fall back into his hands, but I worry that you or Tori or one of your brothers and even Dane and Eliza will pay the ultimate price for offering me protection. He’s ruthless and unfeeling. Murder and death amuse him. He’s convinced of his superiority and that’s why I’ve become an obsession with him. Because he didn’t best me, and I got too close to him. He considers that the ultimate insult.”

“Unbelievable,” Eliza said, incredulity in her voice. “You pegged him. You were word for word what his FBI profile came back with.”

“We need to get this sketch to the police and media,” Dane said. “The sooner we’re able to warn the public and heighten awareness of the fact a serial killer has taken up temporary residence in the Houston metropolitan area the sooner we can bring him to justice. Maybe we’ll get lucky and he’s taken down before he chooses his next victim.”

“Get on it then,” Caleb said. “I’m taking Ramie up so she can rest until her headache is better.”

TWENTY-FIVE

“IS this where I say sorry, honey, I’ve got a headache?” Ramie asked in a drowsy tone.

She yawned widely, her jaw popping with her effort before settling her cheek back onto Caleb’s bare chest, nuzzling sleepily into his arms. He laughed softly, his hand roaming up and down the slender arch of her body.

Her skin was baby soft, like the finest silk. He was thoroughly enjoying the simple pleasure of touching her, of having her in his arms and in his bed. He turned his head just enough that his lips pressed against the hairline of her forehead.

“I’ll let you get away with it. This time,” he said in amusement.

It suddenly struck him that for the space of a few stolen moments all was quiet. Peaceful. No intrusions from the outside world. Intimacy surrounded them, enfolding them both in its gentle embrace.

“How is the head?” he asked as he trailed his fingers through the curls spilling over her shoulder. “Better yet?”

She yawned again and nodded, her cheek rubbing up and down his chest.

He liked her here in his arms all warm and sweet and contented. This was where she belonged whether she readily acknowledged it or not. He could be a patient man when the reward was worth it, and Ramie’s heart and trust were absolutely worth any amount of patience he was forced to exert in his quest to seal their newly formed relationship.

“Are you sure you want to do this, Ramie?” he asked in a quiet tone.

She went absolutely still next to him. Not even a breath escaped her. He resumed his idle caress up and down her body in an effort to ease the sudden tension.

“Yes. No . . .” she trailed off and then expelled a long breath. “Yes, damn it. Well, that isn’t exactly true. I’m not a complete idiot. I don’t want to do it but I have no choice. I have to do it and there’s the difference.”

“You’re a courageous, selfless woman,” he said. And he meant every word.

She made a sound of disgust. “What’s with calling me brave all of a sudden? Eliza said the same ridiculous thing earlier. Do I look like someone who is fearless? I’m terrified,” she said, her voice rising an octave.

He attempted to soothe her agitation by stroking her with his hand, allowing it to glide over her slight curves, but she was already worked up over his words.

“There is nothing brave or courageous or even special about me,” she said bluntly.

Her words weren’t spoken with emotion in an obvious effort to get him to argue his point. It was a matter-of-fact statement, one that she truly believed of herself. He only wished she saw what he saw.

It wasn’t desire, lust or even love that made him view her through rose-colored glasses. Regardless of their relationship or his feelings for her, nothing about her actions contradicted his assessment of her character.

“I’ve lived my entire life lonely and afraid,” she said, pain evident in her voice. “Running. Hiding. From who I am and what I am. I’m done with that life, Caleb. And before you argue whether I should take this on or not, you need to consider that you’re the reason I no longer want to be that frightened, weak shell of a woman I’ve been for so long. You’re the reason I want . . . ​better. You deserve better than that. I deserve better. Whatever we have, wherever this is going between us doesn’t have a chance in hell if I can’t regain control over my own life. As nice as it sounds that you’ll protect me and take care of me, how long do you think it would take before you realize that you got a shitty deal? And that we are in no way equals in a relationship but rather I’m a codependent leech sucking the life right out of you? You can’t possibly think you’d be happy with a woman like I just described. You’re too strong for that. Your personality is too strong for you to have a much weaker partner. You may as well be a parental figure for all the dependence I’ve demonstrated.”

There was so much disgust and self-loathing aimed at herself that he flinched under the force and vehemence of her words. She simmered with rage, her entire body shaking. The hand that rested on his chest had curled into a tight, white-knuckled fist.

As much as he wanted to do exactly those things she described, he realized that it was grossly unfair to her. And it certainly didn’t do justice to her intelligence or determination. It was his nature to charge in, take control and put her in a box where he knew she’d be safe. But it was no way for her to live. He was starting to understand her frustration, that she was reaching her boiling point. Maybe she was already there.