Afterglow by Cherry Adair

sense was ludicrous. True, his friend made the same claim, following his ordeal in South America, where he’d been kidnapped, shot, and left for dead. He had excuses that no one could blame him for—trauma, PTSD, grief. Dakota didn’t.
    Yet Zak had built a company based on his newfound sixth sense. Shit. Rand had no idea what or whom to believe. It pissed him off that he might need more than his own skills to crack this.
    If she could help him find the person responsible for this, he’d bite his tongue and play nice. Which segued into the thought of him biting her tongue and playing naughty. He called himself six kinds of fool. She was everything he wanted in a woman, and pretty much everything he loathed in a human being. Get a grip, Maguire.
    “I’m hoping like hell that when we get where we’re going, there is something .” He was desperate enough to almost believe her. God. Her timing couldn’t be worse.
    If this was the drug that killed his mother, having Dakota—a key member of the Rydell team—suddenly show up in the same place as its reappearance was dangerously fortuitous. What were the chances?
    Slim enough to make him suspicious as hell.
    “So you’re not a chemist anymore?”
    Even her hair seemed to stiffen. “My lab was destroyed. People died … No. I’m not in that field anymore.”
    “You were fired . Then the lab was destroyed.” More omissions. That had been almost two years ago. What had she been doing since? He didn’t give a damn enough to ask—to brave her prickly field of don’t fucking bother —and she didn’t offer. Fine with him. He heard her take a controlled breath before she spoke again.
    “Right.” She turned those pale peridot eyes to him and waited out his sarcasm as she changed the subject. “Was anyone at the event not affected?”
    “Other than my men and the majority of the waitstaff? No. Everyone drank the Kool-Aid, including the priest, the groom’s eighty-two-year-old grandmother, all the band members, and two of my security people.”
    “How soon till we get the lab results back?” she asked.
    “I asked them to put a rush on it. Later this afternoon, I hope.” He turned down the tree-lined street indicated by the car’s GPS. “What’s your angle, Dakota? You’re pushing hard to be involved. Why? You no longer represent Rydell, what possible interest could you have in the outcome of this investigation?”
    “I was involved with every aspect of this drug. Why do you think I insist on seeing where this all leads?”
    “We both know that’s not it.”
    When her mouth tightened, deep lines furrowing between her eyebrows, he resisted every ingrained urge to reach over and smooth them away. Damn, she hadn’t lost the ability to bring out his protective instinct. He squashed the urge to touch her.
    “You have something to prove,” he said mildly, when he felt anything but.
    She shot him a fulminating glare, her chin tilted pugnaciously. “And what if I do?”
    “Then your presence here is not only redundant,” he told her, tone cooling, “it’s a waste of everyone’s time.”
    Her snort was eerily reminiscent of his. “Why don’t you ask what you really want to ask?” She widened her eyes dramatically, hand on her chest. “Did you do it, Dakota?” she demanded gruffly. “Admit it. You just happened to know where this wedding was taking place, despite the fact that not even the paparazzi knew, and you dosed a room full of Hollywood stars with a drug destroyed years ago! Confess!”
    Her mimicry nudged a reluctant smile to his lips that he suppressed. Nothing about this situation was amusing. Even if she could help, he damned well didn’t want her here. “Apparently the formula wasn’t destroyed in the explosion.”
    “Apparently not.” She deflated slowly, her expression suddenly … what? Sad? Heavy with guilt? Yeah, that one he’d believe. “Only two people who worked on that drug are still alive, Rand. All of our notes and files were