Cold Fear by Toni Anderson

secret, fear for her patients, fear of what the next war might bring. This felt different. It was visceral and life-threatening.
    His expression shut down. “You need to start locking your doors.”
    She nodded. “Okay. I’ll tell her.” And pray she listened.
    Charlene Tyson had her coat on and turned to wait for her near the nurses’ desk.
    “I have to go.”
    “One more thing,” said Frazer.
    She waited silently.
    “I’d like all the spare keys to the beach house.”
    She kept her expression neutral. “You don’t trust me?”
    “Why would I?” His voice was honey smooth and raised gooseflesh on her arms.
    She huffed out a little laugh. “Good point. So how do you know I won’t hold back a key?”
    “Because if you did and I caught you, I’d arrest you for interfering with a federal investigation.”
    She eyed him with amusement. But she wanted him to do his job and catch the killer. Nothing else mattered. “I’ll get them to you tonight. What time will you be back?”
    “The morning will be fine. You’re obviously exhausted.”
    Because she looked like crap. She grinned. Nice. “There might be time to get them to you tonight, depending when you get there. I don’t want you worrying that I might come snooping when you’re asleep. I need to eat and unwind for a few hours anyway.”
    The light in his eyes changed from detached interest at the idea of her snooping, to hunger—not the sexual kind. “What are you eating?”
    “Chinese takeout. I called in an order before I came down here.”
    He checked his watch. “Call them and triple the order. I’ll be another fifteen minutes talking to Chief Tyson, then I’m picking up Randall from the police station, and we’re heading back for a few hours’ sleep before the search starts at first light.”
    She raised an expectant brow.
    He cleared his throat. “Please?” he added, looking suddenly uncomfortable as if he’d just remembered she didn’t actually work for him.
    She was used to alpha personalities, but she’d been a captain in the Army, a physician, and owned a certain amount of alpha herself. Still, the request was practical and Izzy was the queen of practical. “Fine. What’s your buddy up to?”
    Frazer looked amused at her use of the term “buddy.” “He’s knee deep in teen angst.”
    She gave a mock shudder and held up her hand, palm out. “Give me the ER any day. See you back at the cottage. I’ll add the total to your bill.”
    She went to turn away, but he caught her wrist, pulled her close. Her heart pounded so fast she felt like a rabbit trapped in a snare. He spoke softly into her ear, and she knew he’d be able to hypnotize the pants off anyone if he set his mind to it.
    “I know you carry a gun,” he said very quietly, “but be careful anyway.”
    She shook herself out of her surprise. She couldn’t afford to let him unsettle her. His concern wasn’t personal. He was just doing his job. And maybe he knew she had something to hide. She walked away with his eyes on her back, but refused to turn around to acknowledge his stare. She got to the end of the corridor and smiled at Charlene Tyson, who stood waiting patiently.
    “Sorry that took a while. Are you okay?” she asked gently. The woman nodded, though she looked more drained than Izzy felt. She glanced over her shoulder and caught Frazer’s gaze still on her. He grinned slowly and, dammit, he looked hot.
    Heat rose in her cheeks for the second time that day. Just because she was attracted did not mean she was going anywhere near the guy. The aesthetics were fine, but the guy himself? Bossy and authoritative. No freaking way. He was way too smart to tangle with, even though she had a horrible suspicion the tangling would be amazing. But she’d been with other guys who looked good on the outside and who’d known as much about pleasing a woman as a fish knew about riding a bicycle.
    And she had something in common with the fish on the bike—they could both