and for her safety, he’d given her a whole new identity, including a new name. It was a way to start over, to start fresh.
But none of that would help Arizona heal from the past.
Uncomfortable with the moment, Spencer floundered, trying to find something to say. He hadn’t known her that long, and their acquaintance had been fraught with danger. As a bounty hunter, he’d been tracking criminal psychopaths—and the psychopaths had been tracking her.
Arizona, being outrageous in every way a person could imagine, had used herself as bait. Along the way, Spencer had met Jackson and learned a little about their history.
They presented their relationship as that of friends, or maybe siblings. But the nuances of their connection made anything that simple impossible. Not with Arizona’s looks and not when Jackson had saved her life.
Not when she’d once been held captive by human traffickers who, after using her, had tried to kill her as punishment for running away.
Her death would have been a lesson to remaining trapped victims. Instead, the bastards had died—and good riddance.
Luckily—at least for Spencer’s peace of mind—Jackson was already in love with Alani, so his interest in Arizona wasn’t romantic in any way. But for Arizona? He just didn’t know.
Jackson was a good man. A protector.
And right now, Spencer felt like a destroyer of evil. Nothing protective in that.
“Oh, for crying out loud.” Arizona slugged him in the shoulder. “What the hell is wrong with you? No one died. Lose the sad face, will you?”
He’d try. “So why are you here?” Remembering how she’d gotten in, he turned to look at the door. “You didn’t damage my lock, did you?”
“Your lock is fine—shitty, but fine.” She propped her feet on the table in front of the couch. “I’m good at picking locks.”
“Why am I not surprised?”
She stared down the length of her legs and wiggled her toes. Nonchalantly, she said, “I need some help.”
Apprehension shot through him. “With what?” Had she gotten herself into trouble somehow? Was someone after her again?
“Promise me that you won’t tell Jackson about this, either, and then I’ll tell you.”
Fearful for her, he said, “Sure, whatever. I won’t tell Jackson.”
“Hmm.” Her eyes narrowed. “That was a mighty quick agreement.”
“But sincere.” At the moment, his biggest concern was her safety. “Spill it.”
“All right.” She went back to rubbing the corduroy, and it was such a sensual thing, her hand moving slowly over the material, that Spencer felt mesmerized. “There’s this restaurant. Well, it’s actually a sleazy bar, but they do serve food during the day, too.”
From any other woman, those words wouldn’t cause much reaction. From Arizona, they boded a looming catastrophe. “What bar? Where?”
“Don’t look like that,” she complained. “Until I know you’re on board, I’m not giving you details. Let’s just say I suspect they’re part of a large-scale trafficking ring and maybe using forced labor. I want to look into it. But I’m not dumb. I know I need some backup.”
Dear God, Jackson looked into large-scale trafficking rings—not Arizona! And he didn’t work alone—he worked with other men who were equally skilled.
They backed each other up—and they’d given Arizona computer duties in an effort to involve her, while keeping her away from the more dangerous action. She should have been doing no more than researching backgrounds on small-scale, local-level traffickers.
Research only.
“I was thinking I could be bait again. You know, put myself out there and see what happens. With you keeping watch, it’d be safe enough, right? If they try to grab me, then we—”
“No.” His temper shot into overdrive, on a par with his alarm. He said again, with more force, “No.”
Unmoved, Arizona met his angry gaze—and shrugged. “Fine. I thought you might want to team up, but I can figure it out on my own.” She started to leave the couch.
He again caught her arm.
Slim, warm and so soft…
As she stared at him, her blue eyes lit from a very short fuse. “I’d suggest you stop trying to manhandle me.”
Hearing the deadly tone in her voice, Spencer opened his fingers. “Give me a second to think, will you?”
“Huh.” At her leisure, she dropped back again. “So ‘no’ with you isn’t necessarily no? It might mean something else? It could mean that you just want time to think?”
She was making mincemeat out of him. He had to take control. “I don’t want you anywhere near anything dangerous, especially by yourself.”
“Yeah, but see, you aren’t my daddy, aren’t my boyfriend, and you sure as hell aren’t anything in-between. So if you don’t want to help, then it’s none of your damn business.”
What did she consider in-between? “I want to make a bet with you.”
Her interest perked up. “You do? About what?”
Already knowing it wouldn’t go over well, Spencer braced himself. “I bet you can’t go a month without cursing.”
Her chin tucked in, and her brows came down. “What does that have to do with anything?”
He had no idea, except that it annoyed him to hear her be so coarse. “Go a month without cursing.” He hated himself, but he said, “Every time you slip, you owe me a kiss.”
Icy stillness fell over her. Silence pulsed in the room.
Tension gathered like storm clouds.
Pulling the tiger’s tail, he asked, “Well?”
Eyes glittering, Arizona slowly pushed to her feet. “Fuck you,” she whispered.
He could see a pulse tripping in her slim throat.
He could see the fear she tried so hard to hide.
“I suggested a kiss, Arizona. Nothing more. And despite what you said, ‘no’ does mean ‘no’ to me. You don’t have to be afraid.”
“I’m not!”
“You don’t have to expect the worst, either.” He didn’t move from his position on the couch, but with their gazes locked, it felt as if he touched her all the same.
It disturbed him—so what would it do to her?
“I would
