What the hell did that mean? “You have something to say to me?”

Lacking any real inflection, almost as if he was sharing the weather report, Dare said, “You’re personally invested and that’s not a good thing.”

The censure cut. “I know what I’m doing.”

“When it comes to Arizona? I doubt it. You’re letting her screw with your head.”

Instead of trying to deny that, he pointed out the obvious. “You were personally invested when you went after Alani, and when you rescued your wife, Molly.”

“I’m not you.”

Hell, no denying that. Spencer knew he could hold his own, but Dare was in a special league, shared only by Trace and Jackson.

“Right.” It occurred to Spencer that he sounded bitchy. He drew a deep breath, then another. It didn’t help. “If it was any woman other than Arizona—”

“You could be detached and calculating. I know. Arizona doesn’t exactly make it easy to stay uninvolved.”

Finally seeing the bus, Spencer wrapped it up. “She’s here.”

“I know.”

Of course he did. Cutting back a growl of frustration, Spencer said, “If you see anything, if you even suspect something might be going down—”

“I’ll send you one of the codes we went over. Don’t mix them up.”

Spencer ground his molars together. He looked around again and still saw no sight of Dare anywhere. Stealthy bastard. “I’ve got them memorized. Later.”

The second he disconnected the phone, he saw Arizona step off the bus and look around as if she’d never seen a lighted, flashy, busy bar before. Already two guys were hitting on her, one who looked around forty, one probably closer to her own age.

They both appeared charmed by her shy smiles and reserved manner.

Flexing his hands on the steering wheel, Spencer forced himself to sit still in the truck cab and observe without seeming to stare. That he’d pulled up across the street, in the shadows, helped him to go unnoticed.

Watching Arizona with the men, he had to admit that she just might be able to pull this off. He saw her as others would; her air of confidence gone, a show of vulnerability masking her bravado. A deliberate ruse, but still, he couldn’t stop staring. His chest hurt, his nostrils flared.

Despite her lack of invitation, the older man kept trying to look down her top, and the younger guy leaned back to check out her ass. Bastards.

But he’d expected no less. She looked amazingly hot while playing the innocent.

Not good.

Not good at all.

Damn, maybe he liked the helpless female act more than he’d ever realized.

For sure, he liked it on Arizona.

After giving her a minute to sidle away from the men and enter the bar, he drove up the block and around the corner to park. Later, when she called it quits for the night, they’d be able to leave together in his truck with no one the wiser.

Even knowing Dare watched over her, Spencer found it difficult to hold back, to give her time to get settled in the bar. With awful scenarios prominent in his mind, he locked up and strode along the sidewalk quietly, constantly scanning the area for any nosy onlookers.

He saw none.

Flickering white neon lights, shaped like a goose, wrapped around the words GREEN GOOSE. Beneath that, red neon spelled BAR AND GRILL, though no one would mistake the priorities of the establishment. Thick bars secured the windows, but given the area, it looked like the norm.

Above the door, a lighted banner said, EAT, DRINK, RELAX, and another sign advertised, WOMEN, WOMEN, WOMEN! with the shapely silhouette of a busty figure beside it. Combined, the lights sent a fuzzy glow into the dark night, barely illuminating the hulking shape of an empty building on the opposite side of an alley. Beside that was a gas station. To the other side of the bar was a mom-and-pop convenience store, now closed, and beyond that, a tattoo parlor, also closed for the night.

All in all, it was an ominous, dreary, run-down area.

As Spencer approached the entrance, several women eyed him, smiling with invitation while advertising their wares.

Hookers, he decided.

Working for the bar owner? Probably. He smiled back—and walked past them into loud music and disorienting strobe lights. It took his eyes a moment to adjust.

Dim, mellow lights hung over booths in the sitting and eating area. A brighter light shone over the bar and bar stools but didn’t quite reach to the seating area, leaving plenty of shadows to swallow up shady deals and lustful assignations—and with every flashing illumination, he saw a few of each.

Discreetly, he scanned the interior until he spotted Arizona at the bar. As he watched, she knocked back a shot of whiskey. Judging by the shot glasses in front of her, it wasn’t her first.

Damn.

What the hell was she thinking? But when he saw the smiling bartender hand her another, he knew. Someone had already sent her the drinks. Things were moving fast. Too fast.

* * *

SO SHE HAD RETURNED.

He’d hoped she would, but she was so hot, so cocky, and so different from the others, that seeing her here now, within reach, almost surprised him.

It definitely pleased him.

Rubbing his mouth, he scrutinized her face, her body.

She’d be perfect, the best yet, the most valuable. And he would have her.

The power of it surged through his veins.

Oh, she thought herself protected. She thought herself immune.

But now that he’d set his sights on her, now that she’d come back, she would be his.