INDY LAY IN her camp bed, waiting for Finn. She was tired, had been awake for nearly forty-eight hours, and the fatigue had settled into her bones. But she needed Finn more than she needed sleep. Needed to hold him against her, have him make love to her, cradle her body afterwards. To help block out the horrors of the past day. To prove there was still some decency left in the world. And to prove that Finn was still the man she thought he was, beneath that cold, hard exterior he’d shown last night. In her heart of hearts, of course, she realized Finn was a police detective, with all the clichés that went with the title. Judging right and wrong in terms of black and white. Ruthless in pursuit of justice. A formidable physical force to be reckoned with. But it’d taken watching him in action
