A creature of fantasy...

...and the man of her dreams

Musician Torque is known for his incendiary solos and smoking-hot looks. Hollie Brennan is a dedicated fan drawn to the sexy guitarist. But she’s also an FBI agent tracking a serial arsonist...and the evidence leads her to Torque, a dragon shifter in disguise. As the sparks fly, Torque and Hollie must fight fire with fire and track down the person endangering their love.

JANE GODMAN writes in a variety of romance genres, including paranormal, gothic and romantic suspense. Jane lives in England and loves to travel to European cities that are steeped in history and romance—Venice, Dubrovnik and Vienna are among her favorites. Jane is married to a lovely man and is mum to two grown-up children.

Also by Jane Godman

Otherworld Protector

Otherworld Renegade

Otherworld Challenger

Immortal Billionaire

The Unforgettable Wolf

One Night with the Valkyrie

Awakening the Shifter

Legacy of Darkness

Echoes in the Darkness

Discover more at millsandboon.co.uk.

Enticing the Dragon

Amanda Anders

www.millsandboon.co.uk

ISBN: 978-1-474-08211-2

ENTICING THE DRAGON

© 2018 Amanda Anders

Published in Great Britain 2018

by Mills & Boon, an imprint of HarperCollinsPublishers 1 London Bridge Street, London, SE1 9GF

All rights reserved including the right of reproduction in whole or in part in any form. This edition is published by arrangement with Harlequin Books S.A.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, locations and incidents are purely fictional and bear no relationship to any real life individuals, living or dead, or to any actual places, business establishments, locations, events or incidents. Any resemblance is entirely coincidental.

By payment of the required fees, you are granted the non-exclusive, non-transferable right and licence to download and install this e-book on your personal computer, tablet computer, smart phone or other electronic reading device only (each a “Licensed Device”) and to access, display and read the text of this e-book on-screen on your Licensed Device. Except to the extent any of these acts shall be permitted pursuant to any mandatory provision of applicable law but no further, no part of this e-book or its text or images may be reproduced, transmitted, distributed, translated, converted or adapted for use on another file format, communicated to the public, downloaded, decompiled, reverse engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented, without the express written permission of publisher.

® and ™ are trademarks owned and used by the trademark owner and/or its licensee. Trademarks marked with ® are registered with the United Kingdom Patent Office and/or the Office for Harmonisation in the Internal Market and in other countries.

www.millsandboon.co.uk

This book is dedicated to my new grandson, Harry. Welcome to the world, little one.

Contents

Cover

Back Cover Text

About the Author

Booklist

Title Page

Copyright

Dedication

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Chapter 19

Chapter 20

Chapter 21

Extract

About the Publisher

Chapter 1

It didn’t matter how many ways Hollie Brennan looked at the information on her laptop screen—the same pattern emerged every time. Only too aware of the problems the evidence posed, she had reviewed it over and over. Her faith in the computer program should have been absolute. She had been the person to devise it, and she had done it with just this sort of scenario in mind. It was used by fire investigators all over the country. Now she was doubting the information it was giving her. Instead of trusting it, she had gone back to basics. As she drank her early-morning coffee, the table in her small apartment was littered with maps, scribbled notes and scrawled diagrams.

She had even woken with a start at three in the morning, tearing herself away from her dreams of enchantment and mystery, before jumping out of bed to double-check one of the locations. But no. She had been right all along...which meant, no matter how crazy it sounded, she had to take this to her boss.

You have to listen to what the data is telling you, even if it appears bizarre. It was part of her introductory talk to trainee fire investigators. On this occasion, she was finding it increasingly difficult to take her own advice.

The streets were clear as she drove toward the office. This was one advantage of being up and about so early. She was half listening to the radio, her mind tuning in and out of the news stories, when the first bars of a rock ballad caught her full attention. It was the latest release from Beast, one of the biggest bands in the world. It was also, on this particular morning, the ultimate irony. After listening for a few moments, Hollie switched the radio off.

On arriving at the office, she was pleased to see her boss’s car was already in its designated parking space. There was a joke among the agents at the Newark Division of the FBI that, since no one ever saw her come or go, Assistant Special Agent-in-Charge Melissa McLain might actually spend the night there.

Hollie didn’t subscribe to the same view as her colleagues. ASAC McLain was a professional, but she wasn’t an automaton. Maybe it was because of Hollie’s unique role within the Bureau, but she had been granted occasional glances beneath the steely mask. They had even, now and then, gone out and gotten mildly tipsy together. No, McLain was human, and she was mightily pissed about their inability to catch one of the most prolific and deadly arsonists to come the Bureau’s way.

On reaching the third floor, Hollie knocked on McLain’s office door and waited for the abrupt instruction to enter.

“I come bearing caffeine.” She held up the carton from her boss’s favorite coffee shop. She knew from experience that stopping on the way into work to purchase the strongest, largest espresso worked well in two ways. It softened McLain’s mood slightly, and it meant she was forced to look up from her desk and focus on Hollie while they talked.

“It’s never good if you have to bribe me.” McLain removed the lid from the carton and closed her eyes as she inhaled.

“Not only is it not good—” Hollie sighed as she sipped her peppermint tea; the coffee had been tempting, but she needed a clear head for this conversation “—it’s so weird I don’t know where to start.”

“How about the beginning?” McLain’s direct gaze didn’t allow for hesitation.

Okay. Deep breath. “You know I like rock music?”

A corner of McLain’s mouth lifted. “I’m more of a classical fan myself, but I won’t hold your musical preferences against you. Is this going anywhere?”

“Bear with me. About a week ago, I was looking at dates, hoping to get a ticket for Beast’s next tour. They’re like gold dust.” The facts. Stick with the facts. “Anyway, there was a sidebar on the webpage, showing all the places they’d toured in the last few years. And it got my attention.”

“Because?”

Hollie reached for her file of paperwork. “Because, in the last four years, the places Beast has toured are the towns the Incinerator has targeted. Our random arsonist is not so random, after all.”

McLain’s brows snapped together. “Let me see if I’ve got this straight. You’re saying our arsonist set his fires in the same towns that this rock band tours? Does he do it at the same time?”

“Typically, the fires take place the day after a Beast concert. Sometimes two days,” Hollie said. “But there’s more. Once I found the link, I did some checking into Beast’s international tours. Guess what?”

McLain took a gulp of her coffee, some of her customary poise deserting her. “Our guy has a passport?”

“It looks that way. In the four years we have been hunting the Incinerator, Beast has traveled to Europe, Australia and Asia. I checked with the police in each of those countries, and during each Beast tour, there were classic Incinerator fires in every location. Generally, the intervals between the international concerts and the fires were longer. Often they were weeks apart. But they always happened.”

“Damn.”

Hollie took her maps out of her file and placed them on the desk. “There’s a problem.”

“No, don’t give me problems.” McLain groaned. “Not when you’ve just given me the closest thing we’ve ever had to a breakthrough in this damn case.”

Hollie pointed to the two maps. “This is a map showing the location of every Incinerator fire. This one shows every place Beast has toured. The two match up every time...except for recently.” She pulled in a breath. Now for the hard part. “The last three Incinerator fires were set in towns that were not the location of a Beast tour.”

McLain muttered a curse under her breath. “Why have you brought me this if you’ve already disproved your own theory?”

“Because there is another link.” Hollie drew her electronic tablet from its case. “I reasoned that the Beast link was too strong to be overlooked.” She brought an image of the band up on the screen. “This guy is the lead singer, Khan. He got married recently and the birth of his baby daughter twelve months ago coincided with the band’s decision to take a break from touring. During that time, the other members of the group have done some solo projects.”

Sensing McLain’s impatience, she played a brief recording of the group. On the screen, dense smoke rolled like fog from the stage. Within it, colored strobe lights danced in time with the drumbeat. Giant LED screens at the rear of the stage projected alternating images of roaring fire, close-ups of snarling animals and Beast’s logo, a stylized symbol resembling three entwined number sixes. At the side of the stage, explosions went off at random intervals, shooting orange flames high into the night sky.

Beast was a fire-storming force of nature, but McLain appeared unimpressed. “Why do I need to see this?”

“I want you to look at this guy.” Hollie zoomed in on the front of the stage. Tall and muscular with his dark red hair drawn back into a ponytail, the man she indicated was all burning drama and flickering movement. Even on a screen, it was clear that the air around him sizzled into life as he timed the sweeping arc of his hand on the guitar to the explosions at the side of the stage. As they watched, he gestured in the manner of a conjurer, igniting a flickering blue blaze along the front of the stage.

“Looks like he enjoys playing with fire. Who is he?”

Hollie ended the recording. “Torque. Lead guitar.”

The reason I wanted that Beast ticket. It was hard to explain her feelings about a man she had never met. Luckily, she didn’t think McLain would require the additional information.

“You can match him to the other three Incinerator locations?”

Hollie nodded, withdrawing a third map from her file. “I tracked each individual member of Beast to find out what they have been doing during the past twelve months. Torque did a solo tour of small venues around the Midwest. We wondered why the Incinerator had changed his targets from big cities to small towns? It’s because Torque did.”

McLain leaned back in her chair, gazing at the ceiling for a moment or two. “You know what this means?”

Hollie nodded miserably. She was one step ahead of McLain. She’d already made the connection her boss was about to voice.

“We either have a crazed fan who is setting these fires as a tribute to his favorite, fiery rock star...”

“Or Torque is the Incinerator.”

* * *

There were things Torque missed about touring with Beast. He enjoyed traveling. Since distance was meaningless to him, he particularly relished journeying across continents and oceans, although he found conventional means of reaching his destination restrictive. After twelve months of seeing his bandmates only occasionally, he could honestly say he was missing them. Even though they could collectively, and individually, bring him to a point where it felt like his head was about to explode, they were his friends. Too much alpha-maleness in one place was usually the problem. On their tour bus Beast was a cocktail of testosterone and shifter genes that meant one wrong look, or a word out of place, and the vehicle was in a constant state of near combustion.

Strangely, it was Torque, the fieriest member of the group when performing, who often acted as the peacemaker offstage. Alongside Ged Taverner, their manager, Torque could defuse a situation with his calm manner and quiet good humor. When Khan, the lead singer, and Diablo, the drummer, were engaged in one of their snarling exchanges, most people stood back. Torque was the one who got between them and made them back down. That was probably something to do with shifter hierarchy.

There were plenty of things he didn’t miss about being on the road. Torque hated being at the mercy of someone else’s schedule, and touring felt like the ultimate restriction on his freedom. Food was always a problem when the band was on tour, both in terms of quality and quantity. Torque ate meat, and plenty of it. Well-done red meat. Everywhere he went, it was the same story. It didn’t matter what country he was in, or what the establishment was. There was always an assumption that he would want salad, or bread, or some other trimming. The only accompaniment he wanted with his meat was more meat. Flame-grilled until it was black. No one ever understood that.

The other disadvantage to touring was the lack of privacy. There had been a time in the past when confidentiality wasn’t an issue, when finding wide-open spaces away from prying eyes was easier. Now, of course, technology presented its own set of problems, taking surveillance to a whole new level. It meant he had to constantly stay one step ahead. But Torque was an expert at keeping secrets. He had been doing it for a very long time.

Unlike some of his bandmates, Torque had no problem with the rock-star lifestyle. Late nights? Parties? Groupies? He could handle anything fame threw his way. Yes, there were aspects of his life he didn’t care to share with his fans, but he had learned how to strike a balance. And having billions of dollars at his disposal...well, that helped him maintain the life he wanted. It helped a lot.

He thought about that as he stood at the edge of his private beach, looking out across Pleasant Bay. When they weren’t touring, the other members of Beast were based in New York, close to their recording studio. Torque owned an apartment in Manhattan, but this was his home. It had nothing to do with the celebrity lifestyle and everything to do with his personal needs. He didn’t want glamour. This tucked-away, luxury Maine property had a perfect addition for anyone seeking the sort of isolation Torque needed. From where he was standing now, he could just about see the outline of his own secluded island.

Maybe it was thinking about his bandmates that had done it, but he was feeling restless. Having his own retreat was all very well. It was here when he needed it, but on this particular evening, his need for company was stronger than the desire for solitude. It was a short walk into the town of Addison, and the regulars in the Pleasant Bay Bar didn’t get starstruck by the presence of one of the world’s most famous men. A few were fans and asked about tours and forthcoming albums. Others clearly had no idea who he was...and didn’t care. Torque found this as refreshing as the beer.

The route from his house into town was one of his favorite walks. The dramatic coastline, with its craggy rocks and wild waves, was on one side and soaring pine forests on the other. It was a landscape from another time, making Torque think of days gone by. Of knights and maidens and heroic deeds. When humans looked beyond the veil of possibility and believed in magic.

It was still early and the Pleasant Bay Bar was quiet. The contrast as he walked from sunlight into shade made him blink. His eyes were extraordinarily sensitive, but they took a moment to adjust. The background music was a country ballad—definitely not one of ours—that suited his mood. Yes, this had been a good idea.

A couple of regulars were engrossed in a card game and didn’t look up as Torque approached the bar. Another guy, whose name he couldn’t remember, nodded a greeting. A few others didn’t even turn their heads. Since there was no sign of Doug, the bartender, Torque leaned on the bar, content to enjoy the atmosphere. It was the complete opposite of many of the places he visited with Beast, lacking the crowds, the noise level, the darkened corners and gimmicks. Torque’s moods were mercurial, but right now laid-back and quaint was what suited him.

Doug appeared from the storeroom at the back. “That’s about it.” The words were addressed over his shoulder to the woman who followed him.

As she emerged fully from the room and Torque got a good look at her, he had the feeling of time standing still. Dressed casually in jeans and a white linen blouse, she was of average height and slender build...and everything about her took his breath away. She had thick golden hair that bounced on her shoulders, an impudent, button nose and full ruby-red lips. Aware that he was staring, and that his interest was being returned by a pair of huge emerald-green eyes, he roused himself from his trance.

“Hi, Doug.” He winced at a greeting that felt lame, mainly because he hadn’t withdrawn his gaze from the bartender’s companion.

Doug didn’t seem to notice. “The usual?” He held up a tankard and Torque nodded. “Did I tell you I’m finally taking that leave of absence so I can go traveling? This is my replacement...”

The woman at Doug’s side gave Torque a shy smile. It made him want to leap across the bar to get closer to her.

“Hi, I’m Hollie Br...” She caught her breath, bringing a hand up to her throat with a nervous laugh. “I’m sorry. I’ve been a fan of yours forever. That’s why I can’t even remember my own name. I’m Hollie Brown.”

* * *

That’s why I can’t even remember my own name? Ten minutes later and Hollie could still feel the blush burning her cheeks. How to blow her cover before she even got started. One look from Torque’s unusual eyes and she had almost blurted out her real name. Not that he appeared to have noticed. He was still glancing her way every now and then, but the looks he was giving her didn’t seem suspicious.

He seemed... Now that she gave it some thought, she wasn’t sure how he seemed. Bemused? That might explain the tiny crease at the corner of his mouth when he stared at her. Nervous? How was that even possible? This was a man used to performing before thousands, even tens of thousands, of adoring fans. What was there about this situation that could possibly make him experience the same fumbling awkwardness she was feeling? Even so, his hand shook ever so slightly as he raised his glass to his lips. Most of all, Torque’s expression was that of a man about to step over a boundary into the unknown. It was fear and excitement in equal measures.

Was it possible she was projecting her own emotions at this first meeting on to him? When she told him she had been a fan forever, it was the truth. Her love of Beast had always centered on Torque. For someone as grounded as Hollie, her adoration of a rock star had always been a slight annoyance to her. It almost felt out of character, like something she should have been above. And that starstruck sensation when she had gone to their concerts and seen him onstage? So not me. Even though he had been a speck in the distance, the pull of attraction had been so strong it had brought tears to her eyes.

To come face-to-face with her idol in these circumstances was the ultimate irony. To feel that same attraction up close, while under pressure to do her job...no wonder she was having trouble thinking straight. As she performed the routine tasks behind the bar under Doug’s supervision, her stomach was churning and her hands were clammy.

Hollie had never worked undercover, and once McLain had decided to place Torque under surveillance, things had moved fast. Checking out the area around his home, local agents had come back with information that the owner of Torque’s favorite bar was a former cop. If they could get someone in there, right up close to their target, just for a few days... Someone who could observe a celebrity rock star without arousing his suspicion...

“Have you ever worked in a bar?” McLain’s sharp eyes had narrowed as she studied Hollie’s face.

“I had a summer job when I was studying...” She had caught the trend of her chief’s thoughts and trailed off. “No way.” Blatant insubordination was not her style, but this was out-and-out crazy. “You need an experienced undercover agent.”

“I need someone who knows the Incinerator. You’ve worked this case from the start, Hollie.” Things were serious when McLain used her first name. “You understand everything about our fire starter.” McLain had flipped over a sheet of paper. “This John ‘Torque’ Jones. You also know about him. This is highly sensitive. If we screw this up, the press will be screaming harassment of a superstar and the Incinerator case will become public property. No one else can replicate your intuition about this. I want you to get up close to Torque and find out if there’s a chance he’s our guy.”

Get up close to Torque? Hollie was twenty-eight years old, but that instruction still made her heart rate soar as if she were nineteen and attending her first Beast concert. She told herself those words had nothing to do with why she was here. She was a professional. Catching the deadly arsonist whose trail of destruction had led to billions of dollars’ worth of damage and more than twenty deaths was all that mattered. That was why she had agreed to McLain’s request. For the next few weeks, she wasn’t Agent Hollie Brennan, Chief Fire Investigator. Instead, she was Hollie Brown, bartender.

As she felt Torque’s eyes following her, she thought back to her eighteen-year-old self. How often had she gazed at the image on the cover of Fire and Fury, Beast’s most successful album? It depicted the band in evening dress, all of them looking glamorous as hell and slightly debauched, as though the shot had been taken the morning after a heavy night. While the others were pictured leaning against a whitewashed wall, bow ties hanging loose and hands thrust into dinner jacket pockets, it was always Torque who drew her gaze.

In the picture, he was apart from his bandmates, half sitting, half lying on a set of stone steps. With his flame-red hair tossed over one shoulder, bronzed skin tones and long legs encased in daringly tight black pants, he could have been a fashion model. The black top hat he wore was tilted low, its shadow concealing the upper part of his face, but his beautiful mouth and chiseled jaw were visible. His hands were raised as though his long fingers were strumming an invisible guitar. It was a stunning, iconic image.

The man who tilted his empty glass toward her now with a raised brow wore torn, faded jeans and work boots. His black T-shirt clung lovingly to his biceps and emphasized his dramatic coloring. Even in everyday clothing, Torque was breathtaking. Even with his features that looked like they had been lovingly carved by the hand of a master sculptor, it was still his eyes that drew her attention. Just when they appeared a nondescript gray, the light caught the multicolored moonstone flecks in their depths, making them shimmer like opals in sunlight.

Those eyes watched her again from beneath heavy lids as she refilled his glass. “What brings you to Addison?”

Keep it simple. That was what the veteran undercover agent who had given her an intense induction course had told her. Vince King had coached her in every aspect of the role, going over and over what she needed to know until she was word perfect. Stick to a short, basic story and don’t elaborate.

“I like Maine. I thought it would be a nice place to spend the summer.” She smiled. “Don’t worry. Although I’m a fan, I’m not a stalker.”

She’d seen his smile on her TV and laptop, on the pages of magazines, on the huge LED screens at the back of the stage at concerts. Now she was experiencing its full force across a distance of a few feet. As her knees turned to Jell-O, she gripped the edge of the bar to keep herself upright.

“Good. I don’t want any more of those.”

So Torque had a stalker. His words implied there was more than one. Could the Incinerator be an obsessive fan? Torque was well-known for his fiery onstage antics. Were the arson attacks a sick tribute?

Or was Hollie, already a Torque fan herself, now feeling the hit of his attractiveness close up, reluctant to accept that he could be the man they were looking for? Whatever the truth turned out to be, she needed to take care. She had come here to unmask a fire-wielding killer. After only minutes in Torque’s company, she was already in danger of getting burned.

Chapter 2

Days of yore. Torque liked that phrase. It was all-encompassing, conjuring up images of chivalrous knights in armor on white chargers, maidens in distress and, of course, the obligatory dragon who terrorized the neighborhood by demanding a regular blood or virgin sacrifice.

Except legend didn’t always get its facts straight. Sometimes the maidens did the rescuing, the knights were the ones who terrorized and the dragons were in charge of chivalry. To Torque, yore was more than just a nostalgic word for describing a bygone era. It summed up a time when the veil between worlds had been thinner. When the line between magic and mundane was blurred. When mortals had accepted the evidence of their hearts and their souls. Science had brought humankind a long way. Its benefits were far-reaching, but it had closed down many of those instincts. People looked with suspicion upon the very things that had once sustained them. Witches were cast out, charms and spells were frowned upon, alchemy faded into insignificance.

And dragons? What of those unique creatures who, most people would say, had only ever existed in legend? Even the believers, the humans who truly wanted dragons to have been real, would shake their heads sadly and mourn their loss, holding on to them through their games, paintings and stories.

It was better this way, of course. The last of the true dragons had died out five hundred years ago, spending his last days on a remote island in the South China Sea. Now only the dragon-shifters—a unique breed of half human, half dragon beings—remained. If the world ever discovered their existence? Torque clenched his jaw hard. Not on my watch. He had no desire to end his days in a cage, poked and prodded in the name of research. Even worse would be to become an exhibit in the name of entertainment, paraded and ogled like an elephant in a circus.

Torque was a dragon-shifter, but he no longer bore any responsibility to the others of his kind. His leadership had been brought to an abrupt end and the world had moved on from the days of dragon clans and oaths of fealty. He was the last of his kin. The mighty Cumhachdach had been wiped out by powerful magic, his own life saved only because the sorceress who killed his clan had chosen to torture him by keeping him alive. There had been a time, once... He shook his head, clearing it of any lingering thoughts as he unfurled his huge wings and took to the skies. Once might as well be never. These days, his only loyalty was to himself.

He swooped over his private island, blending easily with the night sky. As he flew lower over the dense forest, his scales changed color to match the tones of the trees. Camouflage was the dragon version of invisibility. Had he ventured into a city skyline, he would have become concrete gray. When he passed over an ocean in daylight, he was the exact blue of the waves below him and the sky above.

Torque’s eyes scanned the landscape, homing in on a tiny creature moving in grass and the tilt of a bird’s wing many miles away. His ears isolated individual sounds, locating rustling leaves and human voices along the coast. Dragon senses were the keenest of all, but on this night he was distracted by his human emotions. Feelings he barely understood were pulling at the edges of his consciousness, forcing his attention away from the beauty of the landscape.

After centuries of being alone—and liking it that way—he had felt something deep inside him stirring. And he knew why. All it had taken was a pair of green eyes, a shy smile and an enticing figure. It wasn’t as if he lived a hermit’s life as a human. He was a rock star. Temptation came his way and he didn’t turn it down. Beast worked hard and played harder. Although the dynamics had changed now that Khan, lead singer and former party-animal-in-chief, had become a happily married man.

Torque knew why his emotions were in turmoil. The Pleasant Bay Bar’s new employee had shaken him so much he couldn’t think of anything but her. Hollie Brown was undeniably good to look at, and she had admitted that she was a fan. A plume of white smoke rose from his nostrils into the night sky as he snorted. He encountered fans all the time. His head wouldn’t be turned by nothing more than a pretty face.

No, this was about something deeper and far more dangerous. Throughout the many centuries of his existence, Torque had never considered the possibility of taking a mate. Dragons mated for life and so did shifters. Fortunately, his mortal persona wasn’t bound by the same constraints. When it came to his sex life, Torque preferred to be guided by his human genetics. They had served him well...up to now.

Now, suddenly, his instincts were telling him things were changing. It was crazy on so many levels. He knew nothing about Hollie. But he knew everything he needed. As soon as he had looked into her eyes, he had recognized two things. The first was that she was his. As if that wasn’t earth-shattering enough, the second was that she wasn’t who she claimed to be.

So, let’s take a second to analyze this... My mate just strolled into town. And she’s lying to me.

It wasn’t the best start to a long-term relationship. And he had to accept that his instincts must be wrong. Because Hollie couldn’t possibly be his mate. She was human. Dragons and humans? How could that ever be a thing? Other shifters could take humans as mates. It was rare, but when it happened, the humans could choose to become converts. That meant they could take the bite of their mates and be transformed into shifters themselves. Although it was a huge commitment, Torque had known of a few occasions when it had happened.

Not for dragons. To maintain the purity of the dragon bloodline, the option to convert a human mate didn’t exist for them. A dragon could have a relationship with a mortal, but it could only ever last as long as the human’s lifetime. They could never truly be fated mates.

Even supposing he decided to initiate the whole “mates for your lifetime” conversation, he couldn’t picture it going well. I’m a dragon... He just couldn’t see it working as a first-date conversation starter.

Normally, Torque looked forward to these nighttime flights. Maine wasn’t Scotland, the dramatic land of his birth, but the scenery wasn’t entirely dissimilar. Tonight, his heart wasn’t in his exercise routine. He had a feeling those green eyes and that shy smile might be responsible for his apathy. Something about Hollie had reminded him of the past. Yore. In those days there had been a creed, a code of honor, and she had reawakened it within his breast. Although nothing about their encounter had led him to believe Hollie needed his protection, Torque’s senses were on high alert. If she had been his mate—and that was one hell of a big if—and if there had been a looming danger, back in the day he would have been beneath her window, watching over his lady while she slept. Simpler times, easier solutions.

Circling the bay one last time, he landed on a slope close to the trees. His huge claws gripped the soft ground, gouging deep into the grass. Folding his wings close to his body, he shifted quickly back to his human form. Naked, he stretched his limbs, enjoying the sensation of the cool air soothing his heated flesh.

He had left his clothes in the boat and he shrugged them on, weighing up whether to spend the night on the island. The little cabin in the trees was basic, but comfortable, and he kept the refrigerator stocked in case he decided to stay over. But he needed Wi-Fi if he was going to check his emails for details of Beast’s forthcoming tour. And he wasn’t sure the isolation of the island suited his current restlessness.

Torque could have easily rowed the distance across the bay, but he liked the soft chug of the motorboat. Although he enjoyed the peace of the bay from the skies, now he was seeing a different view. This time—the hours between midnight and dawn—the old witching time, was when that veil between worlds was thinnest. When it almost seemed there was still a hint of the old magic in the air.

His inner dragon was a creature of contrasts, craving wide-open spaces when in flight but seeking solitude when grounded. The cinematic depictions of dragons living underground, guarding their hoards of treasure, were an exaggeration, but he liked enclosed spaces. Out here, on the water, he felt small and alone. Un-dragon-like. It wasn’t unpleasant, but it challenged his shifter senses. And speaking of senses...

He tilted his head, trying to figure out what was different. As he neared the wooden jetty in front of his mainland home, he caught the first whiff of smoke. It was delicious and woody. The scent of burning called to his dragon the way catnip affected a kitten. Except something was wrong. The scent was out of place and the night sky over the town shouldn’t be lit by a golden glow.

Leaping out of the boat, Torque broke into a run as he realized what was happening. The Pleasant Bay Bar was on fire.

* * *

Hollie’s room was tucked away at the top of the old building. Doug had been apologetic about it. “I don’t know why the boss suddenly changed his mind about letting me go traveling. Don’t get me wrong—I’m glad he managed to find a replacement—but the short notice meant I didn’t have much time to get this room ready.”

She had assured him that the room was fine. And it was. A little on the small side, but it was clean and comfortable. Since she wasn’t going to be in Addison for long, it hardly mattered. There was no point finding an alternative. Once Torque left Maine to go on tour, she would be returning to Newark. This was somewhere to sleep, to use her laptop to record her notes, to call in to McLain and to gather her thoughts.

Ah, her thoughts. They should be all about the job she had come here to do, shouldn’t they? But they weren’t. She was totally shaken by how much the encounter with Torque had affected her.

You are a twenty-eight-year-old FBI agent, for heaven’s sake. You cannot still have a crush on a rock star.

It didn’t matter how much she reproached herself, how hard she tried to concentrate on typing up her notes, half her mind remained firmly fixed on a pair of shimmering eyes and a very disturbing smile. Torque’s mouth had lingered in her imagination as she drifted off to sleep. The disturbing, but pleasant, fantasy of feeling that full lower lip against her own had been achingly real...

The dream came quickly and she tumbled into it, welcoming it like a familiar friend. She couldn’t remember a time when she hadn’t experienced this slumbering adventure. It was warm, comforting and thrilling all at the same time.

Her sleeping self approached the giant creature. The beautiful red-gold dragon lay still, his breathing deep and rhythmic. A faint thrumming issued from his chest, and wisps of smoke curled from his nostrils, but she knew his inner fire would be subdued in slumber. His powerful hind limbs and huge coiled tail were tucked beneath him, and he slept on top of his hoard. His precious gems and jewels were scattered all around him, their brilliance dulled by the light of the cave.

When dream-Hollie approached, the dragon’s eyes opened as if a switch had been flicked. Smoke poured from his nostrils, and there was a sound of scales sliding over coins as he shifted position. Keeping his wings tucked in tight, he lifted his head to gaze at her. Hollie raised a hand to touch his face...

She came awake abruptly, angry that her dream had been interrupted. Her annoyance dissipated fast as she realized what was happening. Hollie had been in too many fire simulations not to recognize the real thing when she was thrust into the middle of it.

Subconsciously, when she arrived at the Pleasant Bay Bar, she had done what she always did and checked out the fire safety systems. The bar itself had been fine. As a business, it needed to comply with industry standards. When it came to an escape route, her bedroom was not ideal. It had only one door and a small window high above the street. She hadn’t realized, when she checked those things out on her arrival, that she would be putting them to the test quite so soon.

Smoke was already filling the room. Sliding from the bed, she found the T-shirt she had taken off when she undressed and tied it around the lower part of her face. Crawling commando-style in order to stay low, she made her way across to the door. Just as she had feared, one touch told her everything she needed to know. The wooden panels were hot beneath her fingertips. It meant the fire was raging on the other side of the door.

Although the window was her only escape route, she already knew it wasn’t going to be easy. She was two floors up and there was no fire escape. A thirty-foot drop onto concrete faced her. Break the glass and make some noise. That was about the best plan she had as she crawled her way back across the room.

This was no coincidence. That thought hammered through her mind as the toxic smoke stung her eyes. The stench of synthetic carpet burning and electrical wiring melting made her gag. Above the roar of the fire, she could hear the whine of a smoke alarm. But it hadn’t done its job. It hadn’t warned her in time. It was a discordant thought, one for which she didn’t have time. She spent her life fighting fire, but this one was personal. This one was meant for her.

As she reached the window, the noise level changed. There was sound that could have been a roar of fury and the door came crashing in. That shouldn’t happen. Hollie knew how fire behaved. Although it could be unpredictable, it didn’t kick down doors. Through the choking haze, she saw a tall figure, framed by shimmering tongues of fire.

It’s too late. I’ve inhaled too much smoke...now I’m seeing things.

She sank helplessly to the rug, her eyelids drifting closed as the flame-haired figure strode toward her. She was swept up into strong arms...or maybe swept away on a tide of unconsciousness. It was impossible to tell which as she felt the searing heat on her exposed skin and through her lightweight pajamas.

Opening her eyes, she gave a horrified gasp. She was in Torque’s arms, and he was advancing toward the door. He was purposefully carrying her into the source of the fire. Desperately, she squirmed against him.

“Keep still.” His voice was different. Authoritative, slightly rasping. “If you move as we go down the stairs, I can’t protect you from the flames.”

This couldn’t be happening. This man—one of the most famous rock stars in the world—couldn’t seriously think he could get them down that blazing staircase. I am about to be killed by my celebrity crush. Either that or I really am hallucinating.

Unable to fight, she was helpless to do anything except press her cheek into the hard muscle of Torque’s chest as he stepped into the flames. Her job made what was happening so much worse. Hollie had seen too many burned bodies, had attended too many coroners’ inquests on people who had died in agony. This was a first. She had never come across a case in which someone had willingly walked through a blaze.

Yet, as Torque slowly made his way down the stairs, the strangest thing was happening. She could feel the heat of the flames, but it was like getting too close to a roaring coal fire. She was uncomfortable, but she wasn’t being incinerated. Wrapped tight in Torque’s arms, she had the strangest feeling that he was the source of her protection. But how could that be? It was like he was fireproof. She caught glimpses of what was going on around them. Flames were licking at his arms and shoulders, catching the long length of his hair and dancing gleefully like a halo around his head. Torque was on fire...but he didn’t flinch.

As they neared the final step, one of the ceiling beams gave way with a weary groan. Orange cinders rained down on Torque’s head as he reached up a hand and caught the blazing bar. Still holding Hollie tight against him with his other hand, he gave a grunt that sounded like it was half pain, half annoyance as he thrust the beam aside without breaking his stride. Two more steps and he was kicking open the door that led them into the street.

Her last memory before she passed out was of those moonstone eyes glowing bright with concern as he placed her gently on the grass.

* * *

Hollie slowly opened her eyes, hoping she’d been dreaming, fairly certain she hadn’t. Her throat felt like she’d drunk a glass of chopped razor blades and her nose itched unbearably. Her eyes streamed with the effects of the smoke and she smelled disgusting. Lifting a hand, she could see thick black grime coating her skin. When she tried to sit up, everything ached.

A strong arm slid around her waist, and although she wanted to question its source, she was too grateful for the support. Leaning against a broad shoulder, she eased into a sitting position.

“What...?” The word came out as a feeble croak, followed by a coughing fit.

“I got you out before the blaze took hold of the staircase.”

They were far enough away from the burning building to be safe from any explosions or debris, but she could still feel the searing heat of the blaze. When she tilted her head to look at Torque, he took away what was left of her breath. With his hair streaming in the breeze and his eyes glittering with that strange intense light, he appeared otherworldly.

Around them, a fire team bustled into action and paramedics approached. Hollie might be feeling the effects of the smoke, but her memory was clear. Torque was lying about what had just happened. He hadn’t rescued her before the fire took hold. Like a comic book hero, he had carried her right through the heart of the inferno. And he was untouched, completely uninjured by the fire he had just walked through.

They should both have been incinerated. Instead, apart from the effects she was feeling from the smoke inhalation, they were unscathed. And Torque appeared... She searched for the right word. Invigorated. Perhaps it was the adrenaline rush of the rescue, but he appeared energized, his former laid-back manner replaced by restless, flickering presence he presented onstage. Almost as if the fire had entered his bloodstream.

I am hallucinating.

As a paramedic knelt at her other side and placed an oxygen mask over her nose and mouth, Hollie tried to get to grips with her new, alternate reality. An existence that included a superhero rock star. A man who could walk through fire. How the hell was she going to explain this to McLain?

“My laptop.” Her attempt at an exclamation was muffled by the mask.

“Pardon?” Torque leaned closer as he tried to hear what she was saying.

“All my clothes, my purse, my cell phone, my laptop...they were all in that room.” Her voice was still a painful rasp, but she managed to get the words out.

There was nothing left of the top floor of the Pleasant Bay Bar. The roof had fallen in and bright orange flames were shooting into the night sky. It was a pyrotechnic performance of epic proportions, almost as if the fire itself was celebrating.

Hollie’s professional senses got to work, weighing up what had happened. The fire must have started in the upper part of the building. Was it an arson attack? It was too soon to say. But it was an awfully big coincidence that Hollie, the person who was here to investigate the Incinerator, had almost died in a fire. The second thing Hollie noticed was that Torque had gotten here before the emergency services.

He had saved her life, and from that, she might assume he wasn’t the Incinerator. Unless the rescue was a huge double bluff, designed to throw her off the scent? As she turned her head back to look at him again, she had the oddest sensation of her world tilting off balance. Was Torque the Incinerator, and was he capable of such cunning? If he knew she was here to investigate him, had he planned to set a fire and save her from it, thereby lulling her into a false sense of security? Her heart wanted to rebel against such an idea, to tell her he wasn’t behind such deviousness, but her training and her experience warned her to be wary.

Hollie had been part of the team hunting the Incinerator for four years, wondering how the daring arsonist had set increasingly elaborate fires and escaped without injury. She didn’t know how Torque had walked through those flames and emerged unscathed. If she hadn’t seen it for herself, she wouldn’t have believed it was possible. All she knew for sure was, she had to find out more about this phenomenon and whether it was linked to their inquiry.

The paramedic removed the oxygen mask. “How does that feel?” The woman had checked her over and found no injuries. The only concern was the effects of the smoke.

“I’m fine.” Hollie knew better than anyone what the health risks were, but she could feel her lungs returning to normal. “I don’t need any further treatment.” She bit her lip. “I just don’t have anywhere to go.”

“You can stay at my place.” Torque’s breath was warm on her cheek.

His words triggered a world of conflict inside Hollie. She was here to investigate him. Staying in his house was certainly one way to keep a closer watch on him. It was also a good way to put herself in danger. She could almost hear McLain’s response. Outraged caution followed by an insistence that she get her ass back into the office immediately would probably be the mild version.

Hollie’s own internal warning system appeared to be broken. In spite of everything, her heart’s initial reaction to his offer was a leap of joy. Common sense refused to prevail, but maybe that was because her choices were seriously limited. It was the middle of the night, she was coated from head to foot in foul-smelling ash, she could barely open her eyes and she sounded like a donkey with asthma. The only clothes she possessed were these once-pink, now-black pajamas. Even if she’d had the strength to get to her feet, she didn’t have her ATM card to draw the cash to get herself home...

With a sound that could have been a laugh, but was closer to a sob, she rested her head back against Torque’s chest. It was a very comforting place to be. “Thank you.”

Chapter 3

Torque showed Hollie to one of the luxurious guest bedrooms. He explained that there were toiletries and towels in the bathroom, and brought her a pair of his sweatpants and a T-shirt.

“They’ll both be too big, but until I can get to a store in the morning, it’s the best I can do.”

She plucked at the front of her grimy pajama top with a grimace. “Anything will be better than this.”

“You’re sure you’ll be okay on your own?” He realized how that sounded and held up his hands in a backing-off gesture. “Not that I’m offering to help you shower.”

She attempted a laugh, but it ended on a cough. “I’ll be fine.”

Her bravery and resilience astounded him. She should have died in that fire. Did she know that? Even if she hadn’t figured it out, she must be experiencing a profound sense of shock, yet her courage shone through. When he first saw her, Torque had been drawn to her because of her looks. Seconds later, he had taken the whole never-meant-to-be, fated-mates hit. Now her spirit and strength attracted him just as powerfully as her physical characteristics.

Overcoming a fierce desire to pull her into his arms, he left her alone. But the urge to protect her remained strong. Torque never slept well. The same sorceress who had stolen his liberty and wiped out his clan had once cursed him with her trademark insomnia spell.

Yeah, Teine, the fire sorceress...what a charmer she had turned out to be.

Taking up a position just outside Hollie’s bedroom window, he sat on the grass with his back against the wall and his long legs drawn up so he could rest his forearms on his bent knees. From this angle, he could make sure she was safe and watch the sun rise over the bay. Not that he was in any mood to admire the beauty of his surroundings. His mind was wholly occupied with Hollie and what had just happened.

Being a rock star brought many privileges Torque’s way. This beautiful house with its sweeping grounds and its dramatic views, his island, his fast cars and faster motorbikes...any material thing he wanted was his for the asking. But there was a dark undercurrent to his fame, one at which he had already hinted to Hollie. There were always a few fans whose admiration spilled over into obsession. Enthusiasts who thought they owned him because they knew his face and read every article and interview about him.

Even among a band of big characters, Torque attracted more than his fair share of obsessive fans. Ged, his manager, put it down to Torque’s fiery onstage personality. “They see you as Beast’s torchbearer. Even though Khan is the ultimate showman and Diablo has the dark, brooding looks of a Hollywood leading man, you stand out because the photographers love to catch you surrounded by fire.”

Ged knew who Torque was, of course. The man who had rescued him from the centuries-deep spell cast by Teine was also the man who had given him a new lease on life as a musician. It was a strange life choice, but one that worked. Torque was the only dragon-shifter in the band, but he was among equals. Tiger, jaguar, snow leopard, wolf...his bandmates were all shifters who had been rescued by Ged. Their manager was a businessman by day, a were-bear who saved damaged or endangered shifters by night.

No matter how knowledgeable Ged was, Torque wasn’t sure he bought into the torchbearer theory. It wasn’t just that he got more contact from obsessed fans than his bandmates. The contact he did get was on a crazier level. Ged called it stalking, but Torque wasn’t sure letters and emails fitted that definition. No physical contact was made—he had never even gotten a disturbing phone call—no harm had ever been done to him or his property. And being a shifter in a human world, he found it difficult to know what to do about that. Determined to maintain their anonymity, shifters steered clear of the mortal forces of law and order. Since Torque’s obsessive fans had, so far, limited their activities to strange confessions and occasional threats, he had done his best to ignore them.

Until now. He had a feeling tonight represented a crossed line. Because some of the confessions were very specific. Torque was the person who played a burning guitar. He walked through a wall of flame. He raised a hand and, like the conductor of an orchestra, coordinated a series of perfectly timed explosions along the edge of the stage. And he attracted a small group of people who were unashamed and fanatical about their love of fire. People who looked up to Torque because they sensed something in him that appealed to their fixation. For those very few, it was an infatuation that bordered on worship. They believed he was a fire-god and they offered him their devotion...whether he wanted it or not.

Not. His expression twisted into a grimace of distaste as he tossed a pebble toward the shimmering water.

Being a shifter meant that two parts of him lived in harmony inside one body. His inner dragon didn’t just need fire, it defined him. Sizzling through his bloodstream alongside his mortal DNA. But he was also part human, and that side of him reined in his fiery self. He knew what flames could do. He didn’t worship fire, he respected it. While it excited him, it didn’t arouse him. He could play with its force without pressing the destruct button.

Some of the messages he got suggested his followers—he used the word even though he disliked it—were unable to display the same restraint.

“If anyone gets hurt, I won’t be able to stay quiet.” That had been his ultimatum to Ged when the tributes first started coming. “That’s my deal breaker.”

“You think it isn’t mine?” Ged’s reply had reassured him. “If we find out any of these crazies has actually gone beyond the letter-writing stage, we’ll do something about it.”

As far as they could see, the madness had stayed on paper. It was wild and disturbing, but harmless. Tonight had been far from benign. Tonight, Hollie had almost died. And no matter how hard he tried, Torque couldn’t separate that event from his obsessive fan mail.

His intuition about the fire at the Pleasant Bay Bar scared him. For several reasons, it filled him with more fear than anything he had ever known. First, it meant he was being watched. It was a possibility he had never considered. He wanted to be more intuitive, to be able to say with absolute certainty that he would know if a malignant presence was tracking him. But he didn’t. He was a creature of legend and mysticism, but hunches and premonitions evaded him. His dragon instincts were all sizzling energy and action. He left the finer detail to others.

All he had was an uncomfortable feeling in the pit of his stomach that Hollie had been targeted. She was the change, the common denominator. From the moment he first set eyes on her, Torque had been in free fall, as if he had given up control of his emotions. They no longer belonged to him; they were the property of a woman he barely knew.

If he was right, someone else knew what had happened to him in that instant. Someone else was aware of the profound effect Hollie had on him. That person had witnessed their meeting in the Pleasant Bay Bar...and he, or she, clearly didn’t like it. It shook him to consider that an observer could have known the impact Hollie had on him. It had been devastating to Torque himself, but he had fooled himself he had hidden it well. It seemed his acting abilities weren’t as good as he believed.

Even so, no matter how many times he reviewed that scene, Torque couldn’t find anything out of the ordinary about it. Apart from Doug, there had been only a few regulars in the bar. While he didn’t know any of them well, he couldn’t picture any of them as a demented pyromaniac or a jealous stalker.

His thoughts turned to Teine, the sorceress who had fallen in love with him. When Torque didn’t return her feelings—because, let’s face it, she was evil as well as crazy—she had destroyed his clan and imprisoned Torque in an enchanted cave. He would be there now if it wasn’t for Ged. But Teine couldn’t be the person responsible for the fire. She was dead.

Dawn had sneaked up on him and the rising sun was a huge golden disk in the cloudless sky hovering over the silhouette of the trees. Torque knew from centuries of experience that darkness wasn’t the enemy. Nightfall merely provided a cloak for evil deeds. Even so, daylight offered a return to normality. Stretching, he got to his feet.

Within his nighttime reflections, he had been skirting around the central issue. When Hollie awoke, she would want to discuss the fire and Torque would need to make a decision. How much was he prepared to share with her? About his suspicions...but also about his feelings?

* * *

Hollie opened her eyes slowly, leaving her dreaming world behind. The images had been even more vivid than usual. She had clambered onto the dragon’s back, clinging to his muscular neck and pressing her cheek to his scales as he soared over a landscape that was wild, restless and angry. High, towering hills were slashed through with steep valleys and dark, eerie lochs. As they flew, the weather ranged in untamed moods from soaring discontent to blazing sunshine with no thought of moderation between. Although there was no exchange between them, she knew this was his land and she loved it for that reason.

As wakefulness dragged her from her slumber, she knew she was in a strange place. Even so, she felt a curious sense of comfort, as though she was wrapped in a protective cloak through which no harm could penetrate. As memories of the previous night came flooding back, her feeling of well-being dispersed. By the time she was fully awake, she wondered how she could possibly have felt even a trace of security.

Not only did her intuition tell her she had been the intended victim of a targeted arson attack, she needed to call it in. McLain’s reaction was going to make the flash point of that fire look like a failed firework.

Oh, and I have no belongings. No clothes, no money, nothing...

That wasn’t strictly true, of course. When Hollie called McLain, her boss would be able to get her out of Addison within the hour. She could walk away from this undercover job and be back in her own apartment later that day. It would be the safe, sensible thing to do. With every fiber of her being, she did not want to take the safe, sensible option.

Ever since the Incinerator first came to her attention, Hollie had felt a personal connection to him. She always thought of the arsonist as male, but she couldn’t pinpoint why. Until now, her role had never been hands-on. She was a scientist. Her colleagues called her a geek and she accepted the name with an element of professional pride. It had taken a lot of hard work to reach this level of geekery, one where she was called upon to give talks to experienced fire investigators on the science behind the blazes they studied.

Hollie’s inclusion in the Incinerator task force was an indication of the seriousness with which the FBI took the case. She was one of six senior agents assigned to the investigation into possibly the most prolific and dangerous arsonist the agency had ever come across. Her expertise included fire behavior, analytical chemistry and the use of technology to enhance fire scene investigation. She used those skills to enhance and support the team.

The Incinerator’s legacy was the stuff of nightmares. He was a daring exhibitionist who didn’t care about the loss of life as well as the damage to property. The current death toll was twenty-one, but that didn’t include the information Hollie had gleaned from the other countries. Her colleagues had still been processing the details of the new cases when she left the field office to come to Maine. There had been a sense of urgency about starting the undercover operation because Torque would soon set off on tour.

Her thoughts were interrupted by a soft knock on the door. She scrambled into a sitting position.

“Come in.” Her voice had benefited from the few hours of rest. Although it was still croaky, it sounded almost normal and at least she could speak without coughing. She wished she could blame smoke inhalation for the way her chest constricted and the breath left her lungs in a sudden rush as the door opened. But no. That was the Torque-effect.

He remained close to the door, studying her face. “I want to say you look better, but you’re way too pale.”

“Shock.” Hollie made a movement to brush the hair back from her forehead and was surprised to find her hand shaking. Her lip trembled. “I’m sorry...”

He was at her side in a single movement. Although Hollie’s current role kept her away from the action, her early training had brought her in contact with the survivors of fire. She knew she was suffering the classic aftereffects. The extreme physical impact of the shock was receding, but the emotional trauma still had her in its grip.

For an instant, Torque hesitated as though he had encountered an invisible barrier. His expression was guarded, and even in her distress, Hollie took a moment to wonder what was going through his mind. Then he appeared to shrug aside whatever doubts were assailing him. Sitting on the edge of the bed, he drew her gently into his arms.

As she leaned her cheek against the warm, solid muscle of his chest, Hollie spared a fleeting thought for the rules of undercover work. She guessed this probably broke several of them. Possibly it smashed them all into tiny pieces. As Torque’s arms tightened around her, the trembling that had gripped her began to subside. Rules were fine if things were going according to plan. Any plan of Hollie’s was ash blowing across Pleasant Bay in the early-morning breeze.

After a few minutes, she lifted her head and attempted a smile. The expression in Torque’s eyes was even more disturbing than the aftereffects of the fire. It was probably best to avoid any close contact in the future. Professional distance. That should be the new plan. Reluctantly, she drew away from him. Some new intuition told her he was equally unwilling to let her go.

“It was just...you know...”

“I know.” His lips hardened into a thin line, indicating he was well aware that the fire was no accident. Suggesting that he wasn’t responsible? Don’t make assumptions. “You don’t need to explain. It was a horrible experience, and recovering from it will take time.”

Her brow furrowed, the unspoken questions hanging in the air between them. Torque must know what she wanted to say. He had walked through a blaze as though his flesh was fireproof. More than that. He had somehow used his body to form a protective barrier between Hollie and the flames. She didn’t need her years of study and hard-earned qualifications to tell her he had defied the laws of science. He could pretend it hadn’t happened, make up a story that he had arrived before the blaze took hold. They both knew it wasn’t true.

“You saved my life.” The huskiness in her voice wasn’t entirely due to the smoke damage. “I don’t know how you did it. I know you didn’t get there before the fire took hold—”

“Some things can’t be explained. Your perception and mine are different.” He got to his feet, bringing any further discussion of the subject to an abrupt end. “I need to go out and stock up on some provisions. I’m not used to having a houseguest.” His smile dawned, swift and dazzling. “I’ll get you some clothes, as well, although I don’t claim to be an expert in women’s fashion.”

Hollie laughed. “I’ll be glad of anything I can wear with dignity. Your sweatpants fall down when I walk.”

“There is one important thing we need to talk about.”

“There is?”

“Underwear.” Torque rummaged in the drawer of the bedside locker and produced a piece of paper and a pen.

Hollie placed her head in her hands. “I can’t believe I’m sharing my bra size with the man I’ve worshiped from afar for most of my adult life.”

Torque’s face changed from laughter to seriousness, his eyes darkening to a slate-gray color.

“What is it?”

He shook his head. “Just that expression. Worshiped from afar. It makes me uncomfortable.”

She waited for him to elaborate, but he switched the conversation to practicalities. Pointing her in the direction of the kitchen, he explained that there was fresh coffee already made and the toaster could be temperamental.

“I won’t be long.” She sensed he wanted to say more, almost as if something was troubling him. Whatever it was, he shrugged it off and headed toward the door.

“Can I make a call?”

“Of course.” The moonstone glitter was back in his eyes. “My God, I never gave it a thought. Your family...”

“I don’t have any family. I’m an only child and my parents are both dead. But I have a friend who looks out for me.” Although it was stretching a point to call McLain a friend, it was the best explanation she could come up with. “She can be a bit of a dragon, but she worries.”

Torque’s rich, warm laughter poured over her. When she raised questioning brows, he shook his head. “There are worse things than having a dragon to watch over you.”

* * *

When the call went straight to voice mail, Hollie’s stomach did a bungee jump. This was the secure line Vince King had set up when she went undercover. McLain was her designated handler. The agreement was that she would be available on this number 24/7. Hollie had memorized the number so carefully she was actually able to recite it in her dreams. Her nondragon dreams. Voice mail was not an option.

Maybe she had gotten one of the digits wrong. Taking a steadying breath, she ended the call without leaving a message. Slowly, deliberately, she tried McLain’s number again. And got the same bland voice mail message once more. Panic gripped the back of her neck like a mugger’s hand.

Breathe. Think. After a moment or two, the mists cleared from her mind and some of her usual calm returned. She was letting the Incinerator get to her. Somehow she was making this about him, turning it into something personal. There could be a dozen reasons why her call wasn’t connecting. There could be a fault with McLain’s cell phone. A signal problem here in Torque’s house.

She ignored the little voice that tried to tell her those arguments weren’t plausible. Even so, she wasn’t in any danger. If she wanted to, she could walk out of Torque’s home right now. Okay, she was barefoot and she would have to hold up his sweatpants with both hands, but the point was, she wasn’t a prisoner. She could go to Addison, get in a cab and get the hell out of here. Getting back to Newark wouldn’t be easy, but she could do it. No one was after her. There was no reason to look fearfully over her shoulder...

The thought immediately made her cast a fearful glance behind her. No. She wasn’t going to do this. She had no proof that the Incinerator had set fire to the Pleasant Bay Bar, no proof that anything had happened to McLain. Her imagination was working overtime as a result of shock. Pure and simple.

Her cell phone had died in the fire, taking all her contacts with it, but there was someone else she could call. It wasn’t part of the undercover protocols they’d agreed, but things had already veered so far off script she’d lost sight of the original plan. One colleague calling another wasn’t against the rules. There were other problems attached to calling Dalton Hilger, but they were personal. And they were in the past, she reminded herself. Her history with Dalton was something she preferred to forget. Unlike his cell phone number, which, for some strange reason, was imprinted on her brain.

She knew he hadn’t changed it. Dalton was one of the agents on the Incinerator task force and she’d called him just last week to check some minor details. Her businesslike approach always jarred with his wounded pride. Five years ago, ending their brief relationship had been difficult. Even now Hollie always finished a conversation with Dalton feeling like she’d kicked a puppy...which was why her finger hesitated for a moment over the call button. But she trusted him, and that was what she needed right now.

“Hilger.” The word was a hoarse mumble. A glance at the clock confirmed it was still early. Dalton wasn’t a morning person and Hollie guessed she’d just woken him on an off-duty day.

“Dalton, it’s Hollie.” Sliding open full-length glass doors, she carried the phone and her coffee out onto a terrace that ran the length of the house. Torque had a rock-star view over the bay and she sank into a cushioned chair, drinking in the stunning vista.

“Hey, Hols.” He yawned loudly down the phone. “McLain briefed the team that you were away on some Incinerator-related business.”

“I am, but I need to get in touch with McLain and she’s not answering her cell phone.”

He yawned again and Hollie could picture him. Tall and handsome, with brown hair that never quite did what he wanted it to, endearing in so many ways...just not right for me. Unfortunately, only one of them had been able to see that.

“McLain’s away.”

“What do you mean ‘away’?” The word came out as an undignified squeak and prompted another coughing fit.

“Damn it, Hols. Could you warn me next time you plan on squealing like that? I have very sensitive ears.”

“Where has McLain gone?” She regained enough control over her voice to infuse a warning note into it.

“How would I know? She’s the boss. She doesn’t share her itinerary with me.”

Hollie’s mind was racing. This was all wrong. No matter how urgent McLain’s business might be, there was no way she would have left Hollie without a contact. So what should she do now? Share her suspicions that McLain’s absence was linked to the Incinerator and the fire at the Pleasant Bay Bar? She knew how preposterous it sounded inside her own head. Trying to explain it to someone else, even someone she trusted as much as Dalton? Not happening.

Unprompted, her thoughts turned to Torque. Maybe her perspective had become skewed when he walked through fire for her. It had certainly added another layer to the whole mystery. She faced a stark choice. Do the sensible thing. Tell Dalton about the blaze at the bar and end her undercover status here and now. Or play with fire—the analogy brought a grim smile to her lips—for a little longer.

There was more. It was something she couldn’t define. Hollie was gripped by a powerful conviction that she needed to be with Torque. It wasn’t to do with him; it was about her. She had no idea where it was coming from, or why it had taken such a powerful hold. Maybe it was that old crush, or the shock of the fire. All she knew was she had never felt anything so strongly.

Torque was the link to the Incinerator. She was sure of that. Did Torque know it? If she walked away from him now, she might never find out.

“Are you still there?”

“Yes.” She drew a breath, ignoring the pain in her lungs as well as the misgivings. “When McLain gets back I need you to give her a message. Tell her my cell phone has been damaged, but I’m fine and I’ll keep trying to call her.”

“Okay, but I don’t know when I’ll see her.” To her relief, Dalton didn’t appear to have picked up on anything unusual.

“Can you get me a number for Senior Special Agent Vince King in the New Haven field office?” If she couldn’t speak to McLain, she needed guidance from the agent who had prepared her for this undercover assignment. McLain had brought King in from the other field office, citing his years of experience. He was also skilled in offering support to rookies like Hollie. She had a feeling she wouldn’t like his advice, but she should at least hear it.

“Sure.” Dalton was silent for a few minutes. When he spoke again, Hollie could hear a note of bemusement in his voice. “No one of that name in New Haven.”

“Are you certain?”

“Hundred percent.”

She wanted to insist he go back and check again, but she knew Dalton wouldn’t make a mistake over something like that. His attitude could be casual, but that was deceptive. He was razor-sharp at all times, one of the best agents she knew. Could she have got it wrong? She was sure those were the details McLain had given her... The feeling of discomfort intensified.

“Hey—” the casual way Dalton said the word alerted Hollie to the fact that there was nothing casual about what was coming next “—I may be able to get us tickets to see Beast. Some guy I know has contacts. Not quite front row, but not bad.”

Not quite front row. It summed up her feelings about Dalton. She hadn’t realized it until now, but she wanted front row. Actually, she wanted center stage. The thought coincided with the sound of a car pulling into the drive. “I’m not sure when I’ll be back, but thanks for the thought.”

She ended the call with that familiar feeling of guilt tugging at the center of her chest. It didn’t matter how often she told herself Dalton was a grown man—he’s five years older than me—with a successful career, and a wide circle of friends. He always managed to make her feel as if she had blighted his life.

Six months. That’s how long we were together. It was fun, but it didn’t set my world on fire. Speaking of which...

She turned her head as Torque walked into the kitchen carrying a variety of bags. He wore a sweatshirt she had seen him wearing in dozens of photographs. It was copied by fans around the world. Black and red, with an oversize hood, it had an image of a burning guitar on the back.

“I have food and clothes.” He nodded at the phone in her hand. “Was your overprotective friend reassured?”

“I couldn’t get in touch with her.”

He stepped onto the terrace. “What will you do now?”

“I don’t know.” Her voice sounded hollow as she tilted her head to look up at him. She had come here to investigate him, had known him barely a day, so why did keeping secrets from him suddenly feel all wrong? And why did the thought of leaving him feel worse?

“In a few days, I need to join the rest of the band for the start of our tour.”

Hollie bit her lip. “I understand—”

“I don’t think you do.” His lips curved into a smile, the one that warmed her insides and left her feeling slightly breathless. “How would you like to come with me?”

Chapter 4

Hollie looked tired and confused as she sat at the kitchen counter sipping coffee and nibbling at a pastry. She had showered and her blond hair was still slightly damp. Torque had done a good job of estimating her size, so at least she now wore sweatpants that stayed up and a pale gray sweater that suited her coloring and clung deliciously to her curves. Despite her pallor and the dark circles under her eyes, he couldn’t drag his gaze away from her face.

“I can’t just tag along on your tour.” Ever since he had made the offer, there had been an underlying emotion about her that he didn’t understand. It was like she was being torn in two different directions. He wished she’d just tell him the truth about who she was.

“Why not?” He leaned against the counter, just close enough to breathe in her warm, soapy scent.

“Because...” She flapped a helpless hand. “What would people think? They would assume I was a groupie, or something.”

“But you’re not. Anyway, why does it matter what other people think?”

She laughed. “That’s so you.”

He shrugged. “Can’t help being me.”

“Torque, I don’t want to seem ungrateful—”

He cut abruptly across her protests. “Where else will you go?”

Hollie hesitated and he got the feeling there was a lot she wasn’t telling him. He wanted to explain to her that he didn’t care. No matter what secrets she was keeping from him, he would fulfill his duty. She was his mate and that meant he had an obligation to keep her safe. But if he told her that, he would have to reveal a whole lot more. Like how he knew she wasn’t safe. And how he had the ability to protect her. From anything.

“I don’t know.” The words were barely a whisper...and clearly a lie.

“Would you feel better if you had a job to do?”

“What do you mean?” Her brow furrowed, but he could see a glimmer of interest in the green depths of her eyes.

“My manager is forever telling me to get myself a personal assistant. I’m offering you the position.”

“But you don’t know if I’m qualified.” Hollie appeared torn between laughter and incredulity. “And do all your bandmates take their PAs on tour? Because that sounds to me like one crowded tour bus...if that’s still how you get around.”

“My job offer, my rules. And yes. We use a bus. It gets a bit crazy, but I’ll be there to look after you. Do you want the position or not?” He leaned over and took one of the pastries, biting into it as he watched her face.

Laughter shook her slender body as she gazed up at him. “I’ll take the job. Although I can’t help thinking you made it up just to give me something to do.”

“You won’t say that when you see my emails and letters.”

Hollie shook her head. “Touring with Beast? This was my wildest fantasy when I was in college.”

Before Torque could answer, the intercom for the electronic gates buzzed and he went to answer it. He pressed a button and an image of a man in uniform filled the screen. “Yes?”

“Jackson Kirk, Fire Investigation. I was told by the paramedics who treated Ms. Brown that she was here. I’d like to speak with her.”

“She is here. But the decision about whether she’s ready to speak with you is hers.” He looked over his shoulder at Hollie, who sat up straighter, nodding her agreement.

Torque pressed the release button on the gates. When he opened the front door, Kirk was striding up the path. Torque got the impression the guy’s shrewd, dark eyes were assessing him, the house and the grounds as he approached. Kirk held out an ID badge and Torque stepped aside to let him pass. He led Kirk through to the kitchen and introduced him to Hollie.

“The fire was started deliberately.” It wasn’t a question. She calmly stated it as a fact.

“How did you reach that conclusion?” Kirk asked.

“Because you’re here.”

Torque watched Hollie carefully as he made more coffee. Where she was concerned, his senses were finely tuned and his protective instincts were razor-sharp. He didn’t need intuition to tell him her behavior was...unexpected. Until now, he’d had no dealings with victims of fire, but he didn’t imagine they were the ones who usually led the conversation with a fire investigator.

“Was the point of ignition at the turn on the staircase?”

Kirk blinked. “Uh...yeah. Looks that way.” He reached into his top pocket, drawing out a small notebook. “Although there were two other ignition points. One inside the bar and one in the storeroom. That’s not always an indication of arson, but there were signs of a break-in.”

Hollie appeared to be storing that information away. “How did he get in?”

That was it? That was her calm, collected question when faced with the information that a guy had broken in and set light to the staircase that led to her room? Who are you, Hollie Brown?

“Pried open a window at the back.” Kirk nodded his thanks as Torque placed a coffee cup in front of him, indicating the cream and sugar. “The guy must have checked the place out in daylight, or risked using a powerful flashlight. That window was the only one large enough for him to climb through.”

“You won’t know what accelerant he used until you’ve run tests, but he would only have had what he could carry. I don’t imagine there was anything in the bar he could use?”

Kirk flipped through his notes. He looked like a man who had come unprepared to an interview. “No. The staircase burned ferociously and it’s been difficult to establish what happened there. My initial investigation suggests he stacked an absorbent, flammable substance—probably something he found in the bar, such as newspaper—at each ignition point before pouring his accelerant over it. He doesn’t seem to have made any attempt to make it look like an accident.”

Hollie nodded. “A professional torch.”

Torque’s lips twitched. A professional torch? Oh, Hollie. Are you seriously proposing we keep up the pretense that you arrived in my local bar by chance?

Kirk appeared not to notice the slip. “Looks that way. Which means we have to consider whether you were the target.”

“Is there any question about that?” Torque asked. “If that fire was deliberately started on the staircase when Hollie was upstairs, it seems obvious that she was the intended target.”

“We’re right at the start of the investigation. It looks likely a crime was committed. We don’t yet know whether that crime was arson or attempted murder. Which is why I’m here.” Kirk turned back to Hollie. “Can you think of any reason why someone might do this?”

The hesitation was infinitesimal. If Torque hadn’t been observing her so closely, he would have missed it. Or maybe it was because he was already so disconcertingly in tune with her emotions. “No.”

“No recent breakup?” She shook her head. “Stalker? You haven’t noticed anyone following you? No one who calls and then hangs up?” A shake of the head followed each question. “Nothing at all you can think of that has been out of the ordinary?”

“None of those things.” It was just the wrong side of evasive. “Will you report this fire to anyone?”

Kirk frowned. “I’m the investigator. Who would I report it to?”

Hollie reached for another pastry, but seemed more intent on crumbling it into pieces on her plate than eating it. “I wondered if there was a database—” she waved a vague hand “—or something.”

“Don’t worry. I know how to do my job.” Kirk finished his coffee. “Will you be staying here? With Mr.—?” He raised an inquiring brow.

“It’s just Torque.”

Kirk’s glance managed to convey his disapproval of rock stars with long hair, big houses and unconventional names.

Hollie drew his attention back to her. “I’ll be traveling and I lost my cell phone in the fire.”

“You can reach us both on this number.” Torque might not be the most organized person in the world, but he had succumbed to Ged’s insistence and always carried a supply of his manager’s business cards. He handed one of these to Kirk.

Kirk made a note of his own number on a page of his notebook and tore it out. He handed it to Hollie. “If you think of anything—”

“I’ll be sure to get in touch.”

Torque escorted Kirk to the door. “She seems to be taking it well.” The investigator jerked his head back in the direction of the kitchen. “Most people would be shaken up after an experience like that.”

“Shock affects people in different ways.” Privately, he agreed with Kirk. Hollie seemed more intent on conducting her own investigation than on providing Kirk with answers.

He watched Kirk walk away, making sure the electric gates were closed behind him. His steps were uncharacteristically slow and deliberate as he returned to the kitchen. Hollie turned her head to look at him, smiling as he approached, and his heart lurched.

Everything about her enthralled him. The tendrils of gold hair blowing about her face in the breeze from the open window. The faint blush on her cheeks as his gaze lingered on her face. Her scent, the aroma of her that he could smell beneath the vanilla and pine tones of the soap, made his inner dragon growl with lust. She was his mate. He wanted to sweep her up into his arms, take her off to a cave somewhere and show her what that meant.

The big green eyes scanning his face brought him crashing back down to earth. They were big green human eyes. Nothing about wanting Hollie made sense. Yet, from the moment he first saw her, she had become the most important thing in his life. Wanting her was something he would just have to fight. Not easy when all he wanted to do was grab her and growl out the truth. Mine.

Even so, it was torture. Exquisite but agonizing. How was he going to cope in even closer proximity to his mate?

“You look fierce.” Hollie’s smile wavered.

He laughed. “You have no idea.”

* * *

Hollie was annoyed that she’d allowed her professional instincts to show through in the meeting with Jackson Kirk. She wasn’t very good at this undercover thing. Her real self kept fighting to be let out.

She decided to tackle the subject head-on with Torque. “I suppose you’re wondering what that was all about.”

After Kirk left, they were seated on a bench in the garden, overlooking the wide sweep of the bay.

“I guess you’ll tell me when you want me to know.”

His gaze was steady on hers and she suddenly felt guilty. This man had saved her life, taken her into his home, bought her new clothes, offered her a job...and she was deceiving him. She was as convinced as she could be that he wasn’t the Incinerator, that she could trust him, but her training told her instinct wasn’t enough. Proof. That was what she needed. Until she had it, she should probably be wary of him. Instead of constantly wanting to get nearer to him.

“Torque...”

“Hollie.” That glittering gaze held hers. “It doesn’t matter.”

The words jolted her, the sincerity in his tone almost knocking her off her seat. The message was clear. He understood that she was keeping secrets from him...but he didn’t care. What was this? Everything about the situation she was in felt bizarre, yet she wasn’t unnerved. It was somehow right. More right than anything she had ever known.

Needing to lighten the mood, she turned her attention to the job she would be doing. “Tell me about the tour.”

“We’re touring east to west, starting in New York, which is our base.”

When Torque started to explain who the individual members of the group were, Hollie laughed. “You are talking to the girl who bought your first album and was hooked from day one.”

“So you know all about us?”

Although Hollie still felt tired, the events of the previous day had receded. It was almost like a bad dream that had happened to someone else. There were things about the fire that nagged at the edge of her consciousness. Jackson Kirk had appeared unaware of the FBI database, but maybe he didn’t feel it was necessary to discuss it with her. As far as he was concerned, she was a member of the public, not an expert. He didn’t know she was the person who had devised the complex information system. It was the means by which the Bureau collated information about all fires and cross-referenced it with their existing records.

It frustrated her that she knew so much more than Kirk did. Although it appeared Hollie herself was the target of the fire at the Pleasant Bay Bar, she was even more convinced that Torque was the key. If she could discover why that was, she would be able to find her way to the Incinerator.

Then, of course, there was the issue of McLain’s absence. That worried her most of all. But she had to have faith that her boss knew what she was doing. In the meantime, Hollie would continue to do her own job. She had decided to do that, even though every professional instinct told her she was wrong to remain undercover. Although the Incinerator had turned his attention to her, she felt safe with Torque. Safer than she’d ever felt in her life.

She was aware of him watching her, and pulled her attention back to his question. “Does anyone know all about you? For one of the most famous bands in the world, you guys have been incredibly successful at keeping yourselves private.”

He was partly turned away from her and she studied his profile as he looked across the bay toward a small island. His gaze lingered there for long, silent moments before he turned back to her. Those unusual eyes glowed as he smiled. “I guess we just enjoy being enigmatic.”

“How did you meet?” It was one of the things that had always interested her. The band kept their biographical details to a minimum. “I know Diablo is Native American, Khan is from India, Dev comes from Nepal, Finglas is Irish and you...you like to be mysterious.”

Torque held a hand over his heart in mock hurt. “I’m a child of the world. Wherever I lay my well-worn beanie, that’s my home. As for how we met... Ged brought us together.”

Ged Taverner was the mystery man of rock. Beast’s hugely successful manager, he was the puppet master, the Svengali, behind the legend. The thought that she would soon be meeting him, and the members of the band, seemed unreal. Everything since she had arrived in Addison seemed unreal.

Except Torque. He was her new reality. Since they weren’t touching, it must be her imagination that made her think she could feel the heat of his body warming her through her clothing. His eyes had a hypnotic effect on her. Once she stared at them, she couldn’t turn away. And his lips... Oh, dear Lord. Don’t get me started on those lips.

“Don’t look at me that way.” His voice was low. Not quite a whisper, almost a growl.

“What way?” She could no longer blame the smoke for the huskiness in her own tone.

“Probably the same way I look at you.”

She edged closer. “Like you want me? Because that’s how I feel about you.”

“Hollie...” Although he said her name like it was made for his lips, he remained still, his hands splayed on his thighs.

“Oh.” She let out a shaky sigh, slumping down in her seat. How could she have got this so wrong? “I see.”

“No.” He rubbed a hand over his face. “No, you don’t see. Hollie, this can’t happen.”

“Torque, the only reason I can see why nothing can happen between us is that you don’t want me.” When he turned to look at her, the raw agony on his face told her everything she needed to know. Her desire for him—her craving for him—wasn’t one-sided. “Or if there’s someone else in your life?”

He leaned forward, placing his head in his hands. When he started to laugh, there was no humor in the sound.

“What did I say that was so funny? Is there someone else in your life?”

Torque straightened, and the desolation in his eyes tugged at her heart. “I suppose there is, but not in the way you think.” He caught hold of her hand and raised it to his lips. “Trust me. This way is better.”

He got to his feet and Hollie watched him as he walked away. Better for whom?

* * *

Two days later, Hollie opened her eyes wide as she reached the rooftop terrace of Torque’s New York apartment. Turning in a full circle, she took in the iconic views, the private pool, the sauna and the hot tub.

“I’m starting to think I died in that fire and this might be heaven.” She turned to look at Torque. “You do know I may never leave?”

“You haven’t started on that paperwork yet.” Although he kept his voice light, the thought of Hollie staying in his life sounded just fine to Torque. If they could close the door on the rest of the world for eternity, that would be okay with him. He had grown used to her company with frightening speed. And if he could shut out everything else, he would be able to keep her safe from the person who had started that fire, from anything that might harm her. It was so damn hard. He would go to the ends of the earth for this woman...but he couldn’t tell her that.

Ever since the conversation in his garden when Hollie had confessed to wanting him and he had turned her down—like an idiot—they had been tiptoeing around the subject. The attraction between them burned brighter with every passing minute. They were just doing their best to ignore it. Which was somehow making the whole situation even more tense.

Torque felt like he was living in a constant state of arousal. He was intoxicated by Hollie, drinking her in until his senses were filled with her. Unable to concentrate on anything else, he was barely aware of the practicalities of the forthcoming tour. Much to the annoyance of his manager.

“I have to go out in about an hour to a rehearsal.” He grimaced. “Ged isn’t happy. He thinks we haven’t spent enough time together before we hit the road.”

They headed back down the stairs into the open-plan living space. Although this place was incredible, it never quite felt like home to Torque. He had given a designer free rein with the decor, and the end result was stunning. The white and chrome furnishings were comfortable as well as classy, with everything chosen to make the most of the views. Even so, it had always been just a place to stay. He had only ever had one home. The mountains of Scotland had been forged in fire around the same time that the Cumhachdach dragon clan was born. Now the closest thing he had to a home was the house in Maine.

“How important is it to rehearse? Don’t you already know your songs and each other really well?” Hollie asked.

“We do, but we have other people onstage with us. Backing musicians and singers, some dancers. And our special effects are always evolving.”

“Nothing will ever beat the display you put on a few years ago in Marseilles.” Her eyes shone with excitement. “The one where it looked like wolves stormed the stage.”

“You liked that?” Although Torque smiled at her enthusiasm, he remained wary. The band had done its best to cover up what had happened in Marseilles. In reality, there had been a genuine werewolf strike during one of their concerts. The band had all shifted in response and fought off the attackers. Caught on film, they had been forced to pass the whole thing off as one of the greatest special effects displays ever. They had succeeded, but they were constantly trying to cover up the reality.

“Liked it? It was incredible. I only wish I’d been there to see it in person. The atmosphere must have been amazing.”

“You could say that.” He decided a quick change of subject was in order. “Anyway, this week will be intense. It’s always hard work just prior to the start of a tour, but Ged is right. He always is. The rehearsals are necessary.”

Her gaze scanned his face. She was getting good at reading him. Just not too good, he hoped. There were many hundreds of years of secrets he didn’t want to reveal. “I’d always wondered what made Ged so important, but when you speak about him, I can see it. It goes deeper than affection, doesn’t it?”

It was a scarily perceptive comment. Ged was the glue that held Beast together, but he was so much more. He was the reason they existed. Each member of the band owed his life to the giant bear-shifter. “Yeah. Ged is a good guy.” Such an understatement.

Hollie shook her head. “Do you ever stop being enigmatic?”

He laughed. “Only long enough to get coffee. But first, let me show you to your room.”

There were four bedrooms, each with its own dressing room and bathroom. Hollie held up a small gym bag. “How will I ever fit all my stuff in?”

“We have to get you some new clothes.”

“Torque...” She groaned. “That was not my way of trying to get you to purchase me some expensive new things. You’ve given me a job. I can buy my own clothes.”

“That reminds me, we didn’t discuss your salary. And I should probably see about giving you an advance—”

She dropped her bag and marched toward him. Reaching up, she placed a hand over his mouth. The action started out as a joke, but it violated their unspoken “no contact” rule. As soon as her fingers touched his lips, heat blazed from the point of contact through every part of his body. He saw Hollie’s eyes widen and knew she was feeling it, too. So much more than attraction. It was their own firestorm and they were helpless against its power.

And...he wasn’t quite sure how it happened, but his hands appeared to have developed a life of their own. His intention had been to move her gently but firmly away. Instead, his unruly body disobeyed him as he gripped her waist and pulled her closer. Now what was he supposed to do? With her parted lips so achingly close, there seemed to be only one solution to his dilemma.

As Hollie swayed closer, the temptation to kiss her grew into a necessity. Every reason why this was a bad idea had just flown out of his head when they were interrupted by a buzzing noise.

Hollie blinked as though she had been roused from a trance. “What was that?”

“It’s the concierge. I’m expecting a delivery.”

She sighed, resting her forehead briefly against his chest. “Then I guess you have to go.” The disappointment in her voice almost undid his resolve.

“Come with me.” He took her hand. “This is for you.”

Hollie quirked an inquiring brow in his direction, but followed him without comment. When he opened the door, the uniformed concierge handed Torque a small package. Once he had tipped the doorman and closed the door again, he gave the box to Hollie.

“It’s a cell phone.”

She turned the carton over in her hands. Her expression was hard to read, but Torque was caught up in that swirl of conflicting emotions coming from her once again. She was feeling regret and sorrow. Why, Hollie? What’s bothering you?

“You are such a good man.” When she raised her eyes to his, he caught a glimpse of tears before she blinked them away.

“Tell me.” The words were out before he knew he was going to say them.

“Pardon?” He knew she’d heard him.

He shrugged the question aside. Now was not the best time. “Nothing. You need a way to keep in touch with your overprotective friend.”

“If she’s taking calls.” She placed a hand on his shoulder and pressed her lips to his cheek. “Thank you, Torque.”

To hell with restraint. Her warm, soft mouth felt perfect on his skin, and just for a moment, he let it happen. Allowed himself that one, tiny indulgence.

“While I’m out you can try and contact her.” He grabbed his jacket, turning back as he reached the door. “Be careful.”

Her brow wrinkled. “About calling my friend?”

“Until Kirk gets in touch to say the guy who set fire to the bar has been caught, you need to be careful about everything.”

She looked sweet and vulnerable—and so incredibly beautiful—that it took every ounce of self-control he possessed to walk out the door.

Chapter 5

Hollie took the new cell phone through to her bedroom. Her feet felt heavy, the sensation slowing her down, and she kicked off her shoes in an attempt to make herself comfortable. It didn’t work. Her discomfort wasn’t physical. Torque had been so generous, and asked nothing in return, not even an explanation. She hated taking advantage of his kindness. Sometimes she wondered if she should just tell him everything, but even though they had grown closer, there were still those nagging doubts attached to him. She was as sure as she could be that he wasn’t the person who had tried to kill her, but there was still a mystery surrounding the night of the Pleasant Bay Bar fire. No matter how many different ways she looked at it, no matter how many explanations he gave about timing, Torque should not have been able to walk through those flames.

If she was honest, she’d admit there was another reason for her reluctance to tell him the truth. Once Torque knew she had deceived him, things wouldn’t be the same between them. It was unlikely they could continue the way they were. When she examined her motives, this was the strongest. She didn’t want to leave Torque and this enjoyable bubble in which they were living. It was that simple.

She wondered if he was aware of the Incinerator’s activities. The arsonist had received some press attention, but because the attacks were geographically so far apart, there hadn’t been the same sensationalism as if he was operating within a smaller area. And McLain had done a good job of keeping the details out of the public eye.

The thought of the chief made Hollie eager to call her. Surely by now McLain would be back in her office and everything would be right with the world? They would clear up the issue about Vince King and Hollie would persuade her boss that sticking with Torque was a good idea. If that didn’t happen? She frowned. It had to happen. She wasn’t giving up on this now. As she set up the new cell phone, she tried to analyze what this was. Was it still the Incinerator investigation? Or was it something new, something to do with the unbreakable ties that bound her to Torque? By the time she had completed the setup process, she still hadn’t decided.

When she tried McLain’s number, her hands were shaking. Because she already knew what the outcome would be. Sure enough, she got the same voice mail message as last time. Bowing her head, she took a few deep breaths.

Okay. There were other ways to contact McLain. Trying the field office, she got through to the main telephone operator. “I’d like to speak to Assistant Special Agent-in-Charge McLain, please.”

“I’m sorry, the ASAC isn’t here right now. We’re not sure when she’ll be back...”

Something was very wrong. Hollie had already known that, but now she was unable to push aside the feeling of doom. Calling the service provider for the new cell, she explained that she wanted ID blocking enabled on her account. When that was in place, she called Dalton.

“Hollie, where the hell are you? And why are you withholding your number?”

“I don’t have much time.” She used the excuse as a way of not answering his questions. “What’s going on with McLain?”

“No one knows. She seems to have vanished. It’s crazy here right now. But, Hols, there’s something else... I don’t know how to tell you this...”

She could hear the distress in his voice and it triggered answering prickles of dread along her spine. “Just say it, Dalton.”

“Your apartment building burned down yesterday.”

She sat down abruptly on the bed, closing her eyes as the room began to spin. “Was it the Incinerator?”

“It’s too soon to say, but it’s looking that way.”

A wave of nausea washed over her. She wanted to run to Torque, to cling to him and be comforted. But she couldn’t. Partly because he wasn’t there, but also because to him she was Hollie Brown...and Hollie Brown didn’t have an apartment. All those precious things the Incinerator had destroyed? The books, photographs and mementos? They belonged to Hollie Brennan, FBI agent, and Torque had never met her.

Her thoughts skittered around wildly. The attack on the Pleasant Bay Bar had been personal. That was bad enough. But this latest fire meant the Incinerator knew her real identity...

“Are you still there?” The sympathy in Dalton’s voice made the lump in her throat swell until it felt like she was choking. “I’m sorry, Hols. Some things shouldn’t be done over the phone.”

“Can’t be helped when I’m on the road.” Her voice was gruff as she fought back the tears. On the road. Careful, Hollie. She didn’t think Dalton could pick up on where she was and what she was doing from those words, but it showed how easy it was to slip up.

“I don’t know what’s going on with you, but you need to come in. Let us keep you safe.”

She could hear the concern in his voice. It wasn’t just because he was a colleague. He still cared and this had shaken him up.

He was talking sense. Dalton was what she knew. Okay, so she didn’t love him, but he represented the real world. Her world. For some reason, the Incinerator had switched his attention to Hollie and she needed protection. She shouldn’t hesitate on this. There was no way she should be considering staying with Torque. Ever since she had started this job, her head and her heart had been at war. Her head was trying to convince her to give it up, while her heart prompted her to stay with Torque. Now things had gotten a whole lot scarier.

She should do what Dalton was suggesting. Let the might and resources of the FBI protect her. She should go home...except the place she had called home no longer existed. And the nearest thing she had to it now was the man who had walked through flames for her.

She guessed her choices were that stark. Dalton and the FBI represented her head. They were security and reason. Torque? He was fire and magic. He was her heart.

Hollie had never believed in gut reactions. Her response to those who did was always with facts. Data, figures, science, proof...they were the things that mattered to her. Now her world had been tipped on its head. Her instincts were telling her, loud and clear, that she needed to stay with Torque. It was a primal warning, coming from somewhere deep within her. If she left his side, she was doomed.

“Got to go, Dalton. I’ll call you soon.” She heard his blustering protest as she ended the call.

Flopping back on the bed, she held the phone to her chest for a moment or two. The tears were fading. In their place, her determination to catch the Incinerator was growing stronger. So he had chosen to switch his attention to her? Well, he had been her enemy for the last four years. Now they would find out who was stronger.

If the arsonist was trying to scare her, he was succeeding. But, for some reason, alongside the fear there was a feeling of empowerment. The woman who had walked into that bar in Addison was not the same one who was here in New York. Fundamentally, she was still Hollie, but something inside her had shifted. It sounded foolish, but she had been living a half-life until now. Having experienced the difference, she wasn’t going back and settling for less.

A knock on the door shook her out of her musing. “Hollie?” Torque’s voice was muffled by the thick wood. “Rehearsal finished early. How do you feel about pizza?”

“Um, hold on a second.” She padded barefoot across the thick rug. When she opened the door, he scanned her face. His gaze was like a caress. How did he do that? It was almost as though he knew how she was feeling and he was using his presence to comfort her. “How do I feel about pizza? Pretty much the same way a drowning woman feels about a lifeboat.”

He grinned. “After we’ve eaten, we’ll get you some new clothes.”

* * *

Hollie had been subdued since they arrived in New York. No, Torque could pinpoint exactly when her mood had changed. She’d been fine at first. Then, after he’d left her alone and gone to his first rehearsal, he’d returned and they’d gone for pizza. Although Hollie had done her best to maintain the pretense that nothing had changed, Torque could tell she was upset. Every now and then, she’d lapse into silence and he would catch a glimpse of real anguish in her expression.

It caused an answering tug of pain in his own chest. Something had happened while he was at his rehearsal. The most likely possibility was that she had called someone during that time and what she’d heard had caused this distress. More than ever, Torque wanted to put an end to this charade. To tell her once and for all that there was nothing she could do or say that would turn him against her. If he could find a way to do it that didn’t involve explaining about shifters, fated mates and the reasons why he wasn’t able to offer her a normal life, he would do so in a heartbeat. Instead, he tried to offer her a reassuring presence.

Torque sensed Hollie was grateful for his understanding, and the knowledge made him angry. Even though he could never have it, he wanted more than her gratitude. He didn’t want to be viewed as the kindly friend with the broad shoulder on which she could lean. When he looked into her eyes, he saw everything he wanted. Love. Passion. Laughter. Warmth. All of those things and more. Forever.

“I’m still not sure this is a good idea.”

Hollie’s words drew Torque’s attention back to another, more mundane problem.

Persuading her that meeting Beast prior to the tour would be fun had been hard work. They had been in New York for five days and the first concert was taking place in two days’ time. Despite Torque’s reassurances, she clearly viewed the approaching evening with dread. They were in a cab now on their way to meet the others, and her expression had been growing more apprehensive with each passing block.

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