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Truth be told, Beth didn’t mind working with the OSBI. They’d lived up to their reputation in the past. But one thing was certain, she didn’t relish the idea of talking to a psychologist, criminal or otherwise. It brought back horrific memories, flashes of fists and broken promises.

Still, if the captain could put his neck on the block for her—and she did realize what a risk he was taking—she could give a little in return. “All right. Who’s this guy I’m supposed to meet with?”

“His name’s Jordan. Doctor Samuel Jordan.” The captain sat back in his chair. Raising his coffee mug, he took a long swallow.

Beth took a sip of her own coffee, grimaced then set it gently back on the desk. “Never heard of him.”

A tinny voice squawked from the intercom. “Man here to see you, Captain. Says he has an appointment.”

The man entered at Aikens’ request, and the captain made the introductions. “Doctor Jordan, this is Detective Andrews. She’s primary on the case.”

“I’ve already had the pleasure.” His deep, faintly mocking voice seemed somehow familiar.

The captain frowned in obvious confusion. “You’ve met?”

Beth studied the tall, good-looking man, trying to recall when she’d had the pleasure. His hair was the color of a midnight sky and he wore it glossed back. Usually she thought men with such hairstyles looked like Mafia hit men. This one didn’t. His hair went well with his expensive, blue double-breasted suit. And his face. Surely she’d remember meeting a man this handsome.

“Last night. Miss Andrews didn’t take it too kindly when I trespassed on her crime scene.”

“Detective Andrews,” she said automatically. Then her eyes widened as it all came back to her. The Humphrey Bogart dress-alike—the man she’d wanted to detain for questioning—he was a criminal psychologist with the OSBI? Why hadn’t he said something? Maybe his Bogie impersonation was part of his own little delusion. Maybe he needed some help himself.

“Good to see you again, sweetheart.” His dark eyes shone with amusement, as if it were all a joke.

A joke she didn’t find funny. “I wish I could say the same for you. And don’t call me sweetheart.” Beth frowned. Pain spiked her head like rusty nails. No more wine.

The captain cleared his throat. Beth turned to stare at him. Aikens took another bite of his chocolate-covered doughnut and her stomach lurched in response.

“Show some respect, Detective. Doctor Jordan has cracked the minds of some of the most brutal serial killers,” he said as he chewed. “Real crazies. I don’t know how he does it. The man has even made a few of them repent like judgment-bound sinners.”

“Please, Captain Aikens, I’ll get a swelled head.”

Affecting disbelief, Beth shook her head. Bad mistake. “He interrogates and profiles. Head shrinks, too. What a medical marvel.”

“Thank you.”

“I was being sarcastic.”

“You’re supposed to work with the man, not insult him.”

“It’s all right. Detective Andrews isn’t feeling well. Maybe she should lay off the wine.”

Aikens said nothing as Sam Jordan rose from his chair and walked toward her. Adrenaline flooded her veins. She couldn’t move. Swallowing a whimper, refusing to let him know how much he frightened her, she watched his approach. And was helpless to stop him when he placed his large hands on either side of her head. Gently, he began to massage her temples, using a slow, circular motion. Warmth spread from his touch, replacing her panic with a strange languor. She felt as if she was floating high above them, an impartial observer to the scene enacted below.

“The pain will stop.” The room rang with his command.

Her eyes widened in wonder. “What on earth did you do?”

Samuel Jordan smiled and she thought it a lovely smile. He touched me without my consent. I should be angry, but he did make the pain go away.

“I’m a medical marvel, remember?”

Ashamed of her performance, she dropped her gaze, staring at the floor in embarrassment. This man couldn’t help it if she thought all mind physicians were head shrinking phonies. Besides, maybe he was different. Since they had to work together, she hoped so. And, since they might be spending quite a lot of time together, she’d better make this as pleasant as possible.

Standing up, Beth offered him her hand. She forced herself to make eye contact, thinking she deserved whatever condemnation she might find on his face. “Please accept my apology, Doctor Jordan. Let’s start over, shall we?”

Sam smiled and took her hand in his firm grasp. “Glad to, Detective Andrews.”

“Call me Beth.” He kept her hand in his and she did nothing to make him release it. All she could do was stare at his mesmerizing brown eyes and at the sexy cleft in his chin.

Captain Aikens cleared his throat. “If you two are finished gawking at each other, can we get down to business?”

They spent about an hour going over the files then made their exits. When Sam paused to speak to the captain, Beth left alone.

No warning bells clamored in Beth’s mind. She had no premonition of his approach. Even her cop instincts, usually so reliable, remained stubbornly silent. Lost in thought, the only sounds to reach her were the lonely taps of her heels striking the corridor’s polished linoleum.

Using his customary stealth, he moved up behind her and exhaled, allowing his breath to touch her ear in a caress as intimate as a whisper.

The image burst on her mind’s eye. Two lovers were locked in passionate embrace. Beth heard their soft breathing, tasted the primal scent of their coupling. The fantasy took her by surprise…this illusion was unbidden, yet somehow welcome. She’d chosen a life empty of such embraces, but now a deep yearning clutched at her heart. What would it be like to trust again? Allow a man into her life? Feel the heat of his body next to hers? Taste the savor of his lips?

His fingertips brushed her jacket, shattering the illusion. Instinct took control. Without thought, Beth grabbed her attacker’s arm and, using his body weight to her best advantage, threw him over her shoulder. He landed with a loud thump against the exit door.

“Lady, you are one tough customer,” Sam said, gingerly rubbing the back of his head. “And that’s one solid metal door.”

“Don’t you ever do that to me again. I hate it when people come up behind me. Given my training, I could’ve hurt you.” Beth grasped one of his hands and helped him to his feet.

A boyish grin spread across his face as he held up his other hand in supplication. “Sorry, didn’t mean to make you mad.”

The feel of his flesh unsettled her. She let go. “No hard feelings. Just remember not to do it again.”

“Let me make up for it. Walk you to your car?” He stepped in front of her to open the exit door.

Pausing to unbutton her jacket, she revealed a gun hidden in its holster. “I’m a cop, remember? I can handle any bogeyman who might attack me.”

“Obviously. Could be I’m the one who needs the escort.”

“I caught you off-guard. Besides, something tells me you can handle yourself.”

“Thanks for the compliment, sweetheart.”

“I told you, don’t call me that.”

He moved forward, placing his fingertips under her chin. “I can’t resist the temptation. The nickname fits your sweet disposition.”

She moved out of his reach. He was kidding, right? She used her best Edward G. Robinson voice. “Wise guy, huh?”

He grinned. “You like old movies?”

“Not like. Love. Some cops use humor to cope with the ugly realities of the job. I use old movies.” She shrugged. “No big deal.”

She glared at him, as if daring him to say otherwise.