Page 9 of Ice Covered Heart

What?

She licked her lips. “What if Nate Shiloh doesn’t deserve the punishment that is coming? What if he doesn’t deserve to be on death row at all?”

Hunter just shook his head, utterly lost.

Her chin notched up, and Shelby asked, “What if I sent the wrong man to prison? And what if he’s going to die because of me?”

Chapter Two

Shelby hadn’t expected him to be so…big.

She hadn’t expected the PI to have shoulders that were quite so wide. So wide that they stretched the fabric of the white t-shirt he wore. She hadn’t expected him to have a chest that would make a linebacker envious. Or to clock in way over six feet and to be made of what looked like two hundred pounds of pure muscle.

Nope. She had not expected any of those things.

She had not expected the deep, dark eyes. Not the jaw that even the best sculptor in the world wouldn’t be able to recreate. Too hard. Too strong.

And he was far too handsome. Not in a traditional way. More…untamed. Dangerous. Rugged. High forehead. Sharp nose. Cheekbones that were slanted and strong.

And his gaze…It was so intense. Almost consuming. And that was a wild thought to have. But, it was there, running around in her head.

She’d been told that Hunter McQueen could handle himself in dangerous situations. She’d been assured by Memphis that Hunter was a thorough investigator. She’d been promised that he wanted to get justice for victims—that he’d been working closely with the Ice Breakers.

The Ice Breakers solved cold cases. They were very selective about the investigations they launched, about the missions they took. And her case technically was already closed, so she’d been turned away from them.

But…

Memphis had given her a referral. Of sorts. Told her that if she was determined to pursue the questions that plagued her, then she needed help. That help was supposed to come in the form of the large man in front of her. Large. Intense.

Sexy.

She swallowed because her throat had just gotten very, very dry. When Hunter had touched her a moment ago, she’d tensed. That tensing had been due to a variety of reasons.

Reason one, she didn’t typically hang out with other people. In fact, Shelby made it her mission to avoid social scenes as much as possible. She hated the stares. The questions. The pity.

Before she’d gotten her hearing aid, she’d missed comments that people used to make when she’d been right in front of them. She’d turn her head and catch the hushed words…

And can you imagine…finding all your friends that way?

I heard she was soaked in blood when the cops found her. Soaked.

Or…

Do you think she still has nightmares? I’d have nightmares. Forever.

And, even worse…

I read a story about her being involved with Nate. He’s the guy who slashed all her friends to pieces. I think he killed them all because she broke up with him.

Whispers…while she’d been right there.

People still said crap like that, even after all of these years. People still liked her pain and her trauma far too much. It was easier to just avoid everyone than to have to face the gossip and the gaping stares.

So, yes, she’d tensed when Hunter touched her because she wasn’t used to people. She certainly wasn’t used to people just reaching out and touching her. Like it was a normal, casual thing to do.

Normal didn’t apply in her world.

Which brought her to reason two. She wasn’t used to feeling a spark of heat slide along her nerve endings just because someone’s fingers skated along her shoulder. But yet, that spark had been there. It was still there, lingering deep inside of her.