Cassidy shrugged. She was still wound up from her run from the hunter who’d chased her up into the tower, the edge barely off her fighting instincts.

The hunter had been stalking her, she realized that now, and must have been waiting for her in the place Donovan had died. She’d picked up the hunter’s scent before she’d gotten the candles lit, and she’d slipped into the woods to shift, but he’d found her before she could get away from him.

Cassidy had led the hunter back down into the desert, thinking she could lose a human in the giant, half-finished building on the outskirts of town, but damned if he hadn’t followed her right up into it. His seeming defiance of gravity proved that he wasn’t human, nor was he Shifter. He’d terrified her.

The chase, the cops’ arrival, saving Diego from falling, and then the feel of Diego’s hands as he cuffed her—all had Cassidy’s Shifter adrenaline soaring. Sitting here waiting had increased her tension, not eased it. She needed the comfort of physical contact, to be held and stroked until she calmed down.

She looked up at Diego and wanted to touch him. No, she needed to touch him. To brush his skin, to feel the rough of whiskers on his face. He’d shaved—she smelled the faint odor of aftershave lotion—but his dark skin was already touched by new growth. A man who had to shave religiously or have a permanent five o’clock shadow.

Most humans seemed uncomfortable with their own bodies, but Diego Escobar leaned against the table with ease, knowing he controlled the room. His eyes were hard but had little crinkles in the corners, which meant he smiled sometimes.

Cassidy reached out her hand, slowly so she wouldn’t startle him, and rested it, softly, on his thigh.

Steel hard muscles met her touch, and Cassidy closed her eyes. Diego’s flesh was warm beneath the fabric of his pants, and oh, Goddess, wouldn’t it be heaven to touch his bare skin? His skin would be hot and smooth, tight against the strength beneath it.

Cassidy’s rising need surprised her, but she didn’t move her hand. She hadn’t touched a male since Donovan’s death, hadn’t had a sensual thought until Diego Escobar had looked at her with sin-dark eyes fifty stories above the ground.

Cassidy opened her eyes. Diego held himself so still, watching her, not making a move to touch her in return.

“You’re supposed to keep your hands on the table,” he said.

Cassidy curled her fingers into her palm and drew her hand away. A shudder of pain went through her. She was never going to calm down.

“Please,” she said. Goddess, now she was begging. Second in command of Shiftertown, Cassidy Warden was begging a human for sympathy.

“All you have to do is tell me what you were doing up there.”

“No, I mean. I need…”

She couldn’t explain. Cassidy got out of the chair. Diego watched her come, not pulling his weapon, but not moving his hand from near it, as though curious to see what she’d do. Cassidy read in his eyes that he’d let her do only what he wanted her to, nothing more.

Cassidy put her hands on his folded arms. Diego remained still. She slid her palms up his arms, the female in her responding to the firm strength of biceps under the shirt. On up to his shoulders, which held even more power, while Diego simply watched her.

His warmth was calming, amazingly so. Cassidy had never touched a human before, not like this. She’d had no idea that touching one would be so comforting, so satisfying. It eased something in her that had been tight for a long time.

Diego still didn’t move as Cassidy stroked her hands up his neck to his close-cut dark hair. She liked how the ends of his hair felt, soft yet prickly. Cassidy cupped his face, his whiskers like fine sandpaper against her fingertips. She read rigid anger in dark eyes, vast pain and guilt. Unhappiness she didn’t understand.

Diego’s voice, when he finally spoke, was completely steady. “You need to sit back down, Ms. Warden.”

“Wait. Not yet.”

Diego put one hand on her wrist. She noticed that he kept his other hand over his gun, snapped inside the holster, keeping her away from it.

“You need to obey the rules.”

He wasn’t afraid of her; he was stating facts. Cassidy’s adrenaline wouldn’t let her obey any rules but Shifter instinct. She twined her fingers through the backs of his and raised his hand to her face.

“Please, just a little while,” she said. “I’m so scared.”

Diego’s eyes flickered, and Cassidy couldn’t believe she’d said that. Admitting fear was the last thing she should do.

“You’ll be all right,” Diego said. “I’ve got you.”

I’ve got you. Three simple words, but Cassidy felt a blanket of safety wrap around her. She knew damn well it was a false blanket and that she needed to get the hell out of here, but the basic need inside her responded to the firm strength of his voice.

Cassidy let go of Diego’s hand, wrapped her arms around him, and pulled him close.

Diego found himself with his arms full of tall, beautiful Shifter woman, her naked body obvious beneath the baggy coverall. Dios mio.

He thanked all the saints that no one was in the observation room—at least that he knew of. Diego had spent two hours persuading Shifter Division and his captain to let him interrogate Cassidy Warden alone. Cassidy could have let Diego die up there in that tower, and she hadn’t. Diego wanted to find out why.

But it was against all procedure—Shifter Division viewed Shifters as deadly, unstable animals, no matter what form they were in, no matter that their Collars were supposed to keep them tamed. Diego had won a few minutes alone with Cassidy only because his captain sided with him—reluctantly. Diego hadn’t lied when he’d said that if he couldn’t persuade Cassidy to talk, he’d have to give her to Shifter Division. He sure as hell didn’t want to.