Disclaimer:I Own Annabelle and TJ. No One Else

Chapter 1

Nine Years Ago

Anna winced as the ER doctor stitched up the jagged cut that ran from her hip to underneath her breast. She was painfully aware of her senior officer watching her. She refused to meet his eye. She knew what his face would look like. Hard stone, granite. His eyes, dark as coal would be filled with disappointment and a little worry. He wouldn't say anything till she got stitched up. He would store it all up for when he got her alone. God, she just couldn't deal with him right now. Her head was throbbing from where she'd knocked it against the asphalt.

"You'll need to keep these bandages clean and dry," the doctor said. "There's no concussion, by some miracle. You've got a hard head Agent Graves." Anna ignored the look he gave her.

"You'll need to come back in a week to get these stitches removed…" The doctor rambled off instructions as she stared at the floor. There was no need to listen to the doctor, she knew he was filing away everything the doctor said. He would make certain she followed them to the letter. He was like that with all his agents but in her case he was particularly overprotective. There were times when she appreciated it. It reminded her of her older brothers. But right now it was only going to mean trouble for her.

"I'd recommend Ibuprofen for the headache. And just take it easy." She stood up and buttoned her blouse trying to fight back the wave of nausea.

"She'll need someone to take her home and stay with her." Anna gritted her teeth.

"I'll take care of her, Doc," he said his voice annoyingly calm.

"Very well," the doctor said signing off on her chart. "We'll see you back here in a week Agent Graves." Anna grunted an affirmative and pulled on her jacket. He offered no assistance, he knew she would only shove him off.

"Let's go," he said firmly. She did not argue, it would be pointless. They went to his car, the same one he had brought her here in, her protesting all the way. They didn't speak in the car. She leaned back against the seat and closed her eyes.

"Don't fall asleep," he said.

"The doc said there's no concussion," she said.

"I want you wide awake for what I plan to say once we get you home." She leaned against the door and rubbed her forehead. He turned off at an exit.

"This isn't the way to my place," she said softly. He knew that.

"I'm not taking you to your place," he said. Her heart thudded in her chest. His place. His turf. Where he had home court advantage. She rubbed her eyes. She hated feeling vulnerable, especially to him. When he stepped into the training room at Quantico she had felt intimidated by him. He commanded that from the people around him. He was a force of nature and not someone you should tangle with. He was like a panther. Lean, slick, and just waiting to pounce at the right moment. And you would never see it coming. She had drawn on his knowledge soaking up everything she could. He had taught her well. At only twenty-three years old she was one of the best profilers in the country. Her accomplishments, according to the higher ups were nothing short of extraordinary considering how young she was. Reaching the extraordinary at a young age ran in her family, she explained with a laugh. Well, she hadn't been so extraordinary tonight. She had fucked up big time and three people were dead because of it. Two agents and a hostage. She'd been so sure she'd had the guy. The profile was textbook. Four hours she'd spent talking to him, trying to get him to release the hostages in the bank. She shouldn't have gone in the bank. The second she had surrendered control he'd had her. She'd gotten him into the sniper's sights so he could take the shot, but not before he'd nearly killed her. He'd told her not to go into the bank. She'd been so sure that she was reaching the guy. She glanced up as the car stopped. She followed him into the building. It was old, run down. She was sure he could afford better, but knew that he lived here by choice. It was almost scary how she knew him. The same way he knew her. It didn't just come from profiling, though he had done that more than once. It came from being in tuned with each other. From the first moment their eyes locked on each other it was like their minds were travelling on the same wavelength. In the field they could predict each other's moves, read each other's thoughts with just a gesture. She didn't have a lot of contacts here in Washington, nor did he. Her parents and older brother were in LA while her other brother was in New Mexico. He didn't have any family that she knew of. Both of them were loners at heart and had very few friends outside of work. That could be why she had latched onto him. They had become more than mentor and pupil. More like the same soul inhabiting two different bodies. The rode the rickety elevator in silence to his floor. They stepped out into the hallway. He pulled his key from his pocket and unlocked the door. He pushed it open and stared at her meaningfully. Lowering her head she entered the apartment. She'd been here one or two times before, mostly work related matters with the occasional beer as friends. He went to the kitchen and returned with two pills and a glass of water.

"Take these," he said. God, couldn't he just get on with the ripping her a new asshole. Did he have to prolong the agony. She grabbed the pills from his hand and popped them into her mouth. She took the water and downed it in one gulp. She stared at him, waiting.

"Sit," he said pointing to a chair.

"I"ll stand," she said tiredly.

"Fine," he said. He stepped away from her and ran a hand through his hair.

"You want to tell me now what the HELL you were thinking!" he said. His voice was too calm. Always that calm. Why couldn't he scream at her like a normal person would right now.

"I screwed up," she said trying to keep her voice from trembling. "I made the wrong call. I thought I had this guy. I was wrong. I made a mistake."

"You disobeyed a direct order," he said. "You were specifically told NOT to go into that bank." Anna ran her hand through her hair.

"He would have killed that woman if I hadn't gone into the bank," she said weakly.

"You got the profile wrong," he said. "You got two agents and a hostage shot and nearly got killed yourself!"

"Montgomery and Walsh were my fault! Grace Nichols, mother of two is dead because I screwed up! I admit it! They are dead because of me and I have to live with that. There is not a god damned thing you could say to me that could possibly make me feel lower than I already do!"

"You don't get it do you!" he shouted making her jump. He seized her shoulders making her wince.

"I saw him stab you! I thought I was gonna be burying you next week right along with Montgomery and Walsh. I've never been so terrified in my life, Annabelle." It was the use of her full name that shocked any response from her. He loosened his hold on her shoulders and gently cupped her face in both hands.

"Don't you understand?" he said his voice so soft, so gentle he made her knees go weak.

"I would die if anything happened to you." Her heart thudded in her chest. She had been sexually attracted to him for a long time, but a woman would have to be blind, crazy or gay not to be. But it had been that raw desire for the untamable beast that all women wanted but no woman could catch. And yet here he was looking at her with such desire and heat that she felt scalded to her bones. His mouth came down on hers, hard, desperate, punishing. There was no passion in it, just raw steely desire. She threw her arms around his neck pulling him closer, deeper. Burning heat pooled in her belly as he devoured her mouth. His hands were fisted in her hair so tight it made her scalp hurt. She did not care. She wanted to feel him. She grabbed his shirt and yanked it over his head. His body was like chiseled granite. She ran her hands over him memorizing him. Learning his skin. Every bump, every scar. He had so many scars. A bullet just under his left peck, a knife slash just above his third rib, whip marks criss crossing over his back. He pushed her jacket roughly off her shoulders and ripped open her blouse. His hands were all over her, grabbing, kneading, pinching. He clamped his mouth over the joint between her neck and shoulder. She gasped as he bit her, marking her as his. Her gasp turned to a moan as he sucked on the skin drawing blood to the surface. He lifted her and her legs went around his waist. All she could think as he carried her into the bedroom was that this was a mistake, but damned if she gave a shit. He laid her on the bed and stood up. She stared, mesmerized at the hard chiseled body as he removed his clothes. He was huge, and hard. The thought of him inside her made her tremble. He came down over top of her seizing her mouth. His hands stroked down her sides being careful of her wound. She bit her lip as he unbuttoned her pants and slid them down her legs. She was shaking as his hands removed the last barrier between them. She tossed back her head had he nibbled around her thighs and ran his tongue over her sweet spot.

"Oh God," she moaned gripping the blankets. He was driving her mad with desperation and need.

"Inside me!" she begged. "Please dear GOD!" He slammed his mouth against hers as he thrust inside her. Her hands dug into his back as he slammed into her again and again and again. Her mind was going to explode with ecstasy. He was driving her insane!

"IAN!!!!!" she screamed as her orgasm crashed around her.

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