“You’ll like this one. I promise.”
“I have my doubts.”
“You cut the wordperhapsfrom your vocabulary for this conversation, and instead repeat the phraseNone of what happened tonight was my faultten times—andmean it—and I’ll give you another truth. Anything you want to ask me, I’ll answer and—”
Before she could get in another word, he was already repeating the phrase. She quietlycounted until he got to the eighth recitation, then interrupted him. “Now, look me in the eye when you say it these last two times.” She donned her best schoolmarm stare. “Because I’ll know if you really believe it. I’ll see it in your eyes.”
“Don’t you mean myprettyeyes?” He fluttered his lashes. Jeez, they were ridiculously thick.
She chuckled at the memory of that morning.
Wow.Really? It’d been less than twenty-four hours since she’d told him he had pretty eyes? She felt she’d aged ten years between then and now.
“Yes. I mean yourprettyeyes. Now”—she waved a hand—“go for it. Give it your all.”
“None of what happened tonight was my fault. There. Happy now?”
“Perhaps.”
“Hey!” He frowned. “I thought we were cutting that from our vocabularies for this conversation.”
“No.” She shook her head. “I saidyouneeded to cut it fromyourvocabulary. I didn’t say anything about myself. You should pay more attention.”
“Right-oh.” He wadded up the empty granola bar wrapper and shoved it into his pocket. Then, he pulled the neck of her sweatshirt aside so he could kiss her collarbone. Chills erupted under his lips and spread out from there. “I promise to pay vastamounts of attention to this spot here.” He moved his lips to her throat. “And this spot here.” Now his lips were on her earlobe. “And this spot here.”
After standing barefoot on the front lawn of the manor house, with the cold air trying to cut her to the bone, she’d wondered if she’d ever get warm again. She shouldn’t have worried. One kiss from Christian, one sexy word spoken in that lowbaritone with that accent, and she was on fire.
“I would very much like you to continue exactly what you’re doing,” she said breathlessly, “afteryou repeat the phrase one last time.” She shoved at his shoulders, experiencing a secret thrill when she barely budged him.
Had she mentioned that underneath that perfect hair and those perfect clothes was a tough, tattooed brute?
He pulledback, his eyes brightened by hunger. She still couldn’t quite believe thatshecould do that to him. She of the barely B cups and inexhaustible supply of ratty sweatshirts.
For a second, she thought he was going to rapid-fire repeat the phrase, just to get it over with so he could go back to seducing her—and really, had that been the case, she wouldn’t have protested—but then his expressionturned serious, and that muscle beneath his eye gave a twitch.
“None of what happened tonight was my fault.” His accent made the last word sound more likefolt.
“That’s right.” She searched his eyes. “That’s one hundred percent right.”
He flopped back on the bed, blowing out a gusty sigh. “But that doesn’t make me feel any better about it. Three brothers…” He shook his head. “Gonebecause—”
“Because your country didn’t support you and instead let you be the fall guy for something terrible,” she interrupted him.
“But I still feel like a wretch because…”
He didn’t carry on, simply heaved another sigh.
“Because what?” she prompted, poking him in the ribs with one finger.
“Because Iamresponsible for not knowing the Iraqi police officers had ferreted outmy mission. If I’d known, I could have—”
“Stop it.” She held up a hand. “Stop right there, or I’ll put my foot so far up your ass I’ll knock out your teeth. Number one, I’m sure there was no way you could have known your cover had been blown.”
“How can you be sure?”
“Because you’reyou, you big, dumb dope. You are the most detail-oriented guy I know. You’re irritatingly meticulous.Not to mentionthorough.”
“And number two?”
