“She’s none of your business,” I growled, already resentful of the cold air against my skin, where Abby’s warm body had been seconds earlier. “None of anyone else’s either. If she gets even a hint of judgment or criticism from you, I’ll—”

Warner held up both hands, palms out, protesting his innocence in advance. “I’m happy for both of you. Brian was never her type.”

I lifted one brow at him in surprise, and Warner rolled his eyes.

“No, he’s not my type either. I’m just saying they were never really right for each other. But Brian may not know that yet.”

“He knows,” I mumbled, and Warner snorted, scrolling through a menu with Hargrove’s mouse pad. “But he doesn’t know about me yet.”

“And maybe if you hadn’t locked Brian’s brother and two of Abby’s out of their own cabin for the night, that secret might have kept for a while.”

“They’re already talking?”

He shrugged. “There’s no such thing as privacy for an Alpha. Or for a tabby, for that matter.”

Our situation was delicate, politically speaking. We’d have to make an official announcement at some point, and it would be the first of its kind. The US Prides had never seen an unmarried Alpha, which meant that even if Abby hadn’t just dumped her fiancé—the son of one of my allies and brother of one of my enforcers—our fledgling relationship would be under considerable scrutiny.

“What the hell am I doing?” I sank onto the end of Lucas’s bed. “This is crazy, isn’t it?”

Warner turned from the laptop to grin at me. “The Spanish poet Pedro Calderón de la Barca reportedly said, ‘When love is not madness, it is not love.’”

“So, that’s a yes?”

Warner laughed and clicked another key on the laptop, then turned it to face me more directly. “Okay, I’ve been up all night, going through Hargrove’s computer. Abby did a good job, but she doesn’t have the tools or the training to access password-protected files and emails. Including this.” He tapped a few more keys, then clicked the trackpad, and an email appeared on the monitor.

I frowned at the screen. “What am I looking at?”

“This is an email from someone named Darren. I’m not sure who that is yet…”

“Yeah, Abby said the same thing.”

“…but let all learned men be warned—the grammar is painful. According to this message, Darren was writing to Hargrove from some place they call the ‘lakeside cottage,’ where there’s evidently spotty Wi-Fi. I haven’t found any other property in Hargrove’s name or any other mentioned in his correspondence, so this cottage could very well be where he’s hiding out.”

“And that would be helpful, if we knew where this cottage is.” I stood and came closer to scan the email.

“I think we do.” Warner clicked on the trackpad again, opening an email attachment before I’d finished the first paragraph of text. “Darren sent this picture with the message. Look past all the carnage,” he said, when I scowled at the image of a stray I’d never met, stuffed and posed in cat form, like a grizzly bear at some redneck’s hunting lodge. “Through the window behind that poor bastard, you can see the ‘lake,’ but it’s really not much more than a big pond in the woods. Jace, I know that pond.” He glanced up at me, then turned back to the image. “It’s in Knox County. I used to run there. There are only three cabins within sight of the water, and only two of them face the western shore.” He looked up at me again, excitement gleaming in his brown eyes. “We can be there in two hours.”

“Be where in two hours?” Abby asked, and I looked up to see her standing in the threshold of her brothers’ bedroom, draped in a throw blanket my mother had crocheted. Her bare knees peeked from beneath the blanket, and I could tell from the flesh showing through small holes in the afghan that she wasn’t wearing much beneath it. If anything.

I hadn’t even heard her get off the couch.

“Warner thinks he’s found Darren’s lake house, and that Hargrove might be hiding out there.”

Abby’s eyes widened. “I’ll be ready in ten minutes.” She ran for the living room, the blanket flying out behind her. I groaned, then snatched her duffle from the end of Lucas’s bed and followed.

“Abby.”

“What?” she called from the floor beneath the sofa bed, where her legs stuck out.

I dropped her bag on the mattress, then squatted and ran one hand lightly down her thigh, wishing I had the time to linger. Then I pulled her out from under the couch by her ankles; her afghan cape slid easily against the wood floor.

Abby laughed and turned over to look up at me, clutching the shirts we’d discarded several hours before. “Here.” She shoved mine at me, then leapt to her feet. “I just have to brush my teeth.”

“Abby, wait. I need you to stay here.”

“No way! I’m an enforcer now, and this case affects me. It’s about me, at least in part.”

“Both of which are good reasons for you to stay here. Enforcers follow orders.”

Her copper brows dipped low over angry brown eyes. “Then give me a good one, and I’ll follow it.”

I growled, realizing for the first time that our relationship would be more complicated than I’d anticipated. Brian was no longer in the way, but I was still her boss, and that was one hell of a conflict of interest.

“What?” Abby cocked her head and gave me a smile. “You didn’t think this was going to be all kissing and cuddling, did you?”

I groaned, and Warner burst into laughter from the bedroom.

“Okay, we’re going to have to draw a couple of boundary lines,” I said. “When I’m the Alpha and you’re the enforcer, there will be no kissing, and you will follow orders.” Which would not in any way be affected by the fact that I could still taste her on my lips. Really. “When we’re off duty, there will be plenty of kissing, and whatever else you want to do, and you won’t have to follow any orders.”

“But an Alpha is never off duty,” she pointed out. “We’ve been over this.”

“Fine, then, when you’re off duty, there will be all the kissing and none of the orders. Okay?”