Page 106 of Fragile Sanctuary

I threw off the blanket, moving before I even realized I’d commanded my legs to do so. I ran across the deck, jumping the two feet down, and hit him full force. He hauled me into his arms. I didn’t care that my muscles ached or that my head thrummed. Because Anson had me in his arms. And he was letting mein.

34

ANSON

It tookeverything in me to keep my hold on Rho gentle. Today had been countless torturous lifetimes of her slipping through my fingers, from others’ vicious actions and my own stupidity. But having her in my arms again, feeling the beat of her heart against my chest, melted the worst of that away.

“You shouldn’t be running,” I rasped. “Or jumping.”

“Shut up,” Rho mumbled, shoving her face into my neck and breathing me in.

Keeping Rho in my arms, I climbed the two steps up to the deck and crossed to the back door. Opening it, I stepped inside. I kicked the door shut with my boot and flipped the lock. Darkness swirled around us as I strode down the hall and into the living room. Lowering to the couch, I cradled her against me, not bothering to turn on the light. She burrowed into me, and I trailed my fingers up and down her back, relishing the feel of each vertebra in her spine, the rhythm of it, the vibration.

“Thanks for coming back,” Rho whispered.

My fingers stilled. “Told you. Can’t stay away. You clawed yourself inside. Walking away would be like tearing out a part of myself—even if it would be the smart move.”

She shifted then, moving so she could straddle me. It wasn’t sexual; it was pure dominance as her eyes narrowed on me. “Why?”

I knew I’d have to tell her. Knew that coming back here meant only one thing. Telling Rhoeverything.

That oppressive weight resettled on my chest, the icy dread seeping in. But then Rho slid her fingers through mine, grounding me in the here and now. Her touch was better than any damn breathing exercise or anti-anxiety med. “You can tell me anything. I promise.”

My eyes burned as I stared at Rho through the dark. Even in the shadows, her beauty stopped me dead. The wildness of it, the freedom. I didn’t want to lose the way she looked at me. And I knew telling her the truth might do just that. But there was no other choice, no place left to go.

“After college, I went straight into an accelerated doctoral program in psychology.”

“So, you’re a shrink?”

“Technically. But I never went into practice.” This was the easy part, the clinical piece, but even it seemed to stick in the back of my throat. “One of my professors had ties to the bureau and suggested I apply to their Behavioral Analysis Unit.”

Rho studied me, not letting go of my hands. “And what does that unit do, exactly? Trace said profiler, but I don’t think I’ve ever heard the term outside movies and TV.”

My thumbs traced designs on the backs of her hands, and I used the feel of her skin to keep me steady. “We’re the law enforcement nerds, honestly.”

She gave me a droll look. “You’re hardly a nerd.”

“Don’t be so sure. I’ve got an IQ of one-forty-four.”

Rho’s brow lifted. “Interesting. So, I’m shacked up with a genius.”

“I prefer nerd.”

“Okay, I can go with nerd. Do you have any black-framed glasses to complete the effect? I think I could be into that.”

I shot up, kissing her. My tongue swept in, stroking and teasing but not taking it any further. Not until she knew the truth. I pulled back to find those hazel eyes slightly unfocused. “I’ll bring my reading glasses next time.”

Rho stared down at me, waiting.

I sighed. “Profilers are sort of like analysts. We take all the facts from a series of crimes and build the image of a suspect. Age, sex, race, personality traits.”

“How do you get your cases?”

“We have to be invited by local law enforcement, or another arm of the FBI could ask for our help when crimes cross state lines.”

“That’s a lot of moving around with no real roots,” Rho mused.

“We were on the go a lot. Living out of hotels.”

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