Her mint eyes dance over my face, soft, intentional, like a caress.
“No matter how you come across, Maverick, you actuallydocare.”
I shift uneasily. Words almost stumble out, but I won’t let them. She doesn’t need an asshole. And she doesn’t need a liar. Instead, I say, “Yes, Idocare … about you.”
Her eyes drop to her hands, her face darkening. “Makes me wonder…”
“Wonder what?”
“How different things could be if I were just a woman, and you were just a man—not my bodyguard?”
My chest tightens, a sharp ache lodging behind my ribs.
“Stuff like that. What-ifs will make you mighty crazy.”
She sets the yarn and crochet hook in her lap. “What-ifs are the only thing that keep me going.”
“I don’t get it,” I confess, stepping closer and eyeing the spot next to her on the couch. Can’t go there. Won’t let myself. “You’ve got everything people dream of,” I murmur. “And it still isn’t enough?”
“What I have,Inever wanted.”
Questions snake through my mind. But only one matters. “Then what are you going to do about it?”
She pats the spot next to her. “I won’t bite, and?—”
“I know. I know. I’m off duty,” I say impatiently, taking the seat opposite her in front of the hearth. “Only I’m not, Mia.”
“What youareis no fun at all,” she says decidedly, corners of her mouth drawing down until I’m pretty sure she’s pouting.
Never had a woman accuse me of this before. Not since the injury stole my dream.
“Not here for fun. Here to protect.”
Her face goes imperious. “Then, you might as well make yourself useful. How about refilling the kettle and heating more water for me? My tea could use a refresh.”
I give her a warning glare, not amused by the sudden shift into servitude. “Anything else, Princess?”
Her face goes mischievous again, and I brace for more temptation. “Just honey. Lots of honey.”
Fuck. She has to go there. My fists ball, and I mutter under my breath. Last complication I need—wanting my asset. One so high-profile, there’s no way I’ll avoid scrutiny.
When I place two steaming mugs on the table, she pats the spot next to her on the couch again. “Remember when I said I wanted a human to talk to?”
I nod.
Sarcasm threads her laugh. “Guess I’ll have to make do with you.”
“Let me guess,” I grumble.
“Off duty,” she says—with a look that tells me exactly why that’s a problem.
Chapter
Ten
MIA
“Off duty,” Maverick says like a man unconvinced by his own words. He begrudgingly sits down next to me.
