She looked down at their entwined hands and held on. “What does that mean?”
How could he explain this to her without sounding like an ass? “I see a problem and I fixthat problem.”
To his utter surprise, she grinned. “We have tons of problems. How wouldyou fix them?”
He liked that she held on to his hand, considering how hard it must be for her to trust him. He tamped down the urge to protect her. For now. “I’d call a lawyer tomorrow and see what your options are, while continuing to hunt for my brother. Then I’d make a decision from there. One of the options is relocating you through unofficial channels.” Now that he knew Fletcher had found her, had figured out her true identity, he couldn’t go through official channels. It was possible Fletcher still had connections.
She bit her lip. “Talk to a lawyer?”
“Sure. Just to figure out your options. Then go from there.” He’d call Scott in the morningif she wanted.
She looked up at him, her eyes a deeper blue in the darkened house. “And if Idecide to run?”
He studied her lovely face. Every instinct he had told him to lock her down safely, yet he knew that doing so would destroy the freedom she’d fought so hard for, and he couldn’t do that to her. “Then you run.” Although he’d have Wolfe track her. Or maybe the twins because Wolfe was expecting a baby soon.
A light peach tint slid over her cheekbones. “You’re all right, Jethro.” Then she leaned over and kissed him, her hair falling on hisbare shoulder.
Lust jolted through his system. Slowly, not wanting to spook her, he partially turned and slid his hand into that thick hair as he’d wanted to for the last few hours. She made a small sound of surrender, and it was all the invitation he needed.
He lifted her easily, sitting her on his lap and taking over the kiss. She tasted sweet and felt hot, and he slanted his mouth over hers, coaxing her response. She stiffened and pressed her hands against his bare chest. He was just about to release her when she tentatively slid her tongue along his, as if just remembering how to kiss.How to let go.
Her palms scorched his skin as she slid her hands up to curl her fingers overhis shoulders.
This was what he’d needed from the first time she’d hugged Roscoe and showed her soft side. This passionate, trusting, and so damn sweet energy between them. He knew her secrets and she knew some of his. The oneshe could share.
She tangled her fingers in his hair and her body gyrated on him. He went rock hard at feeling her soft thighs on his. Fire roared through him with the need to go deeper. To take her and make her his. The thoughts zinged around his head, escaping his attempt to grab them andshut them down.
Twisting his wrist, he tangled his fingers in her silky hair and slowly pulled her awayfrom his mouth.
They were both panting, and her lips were a swollen ruby red.
He groaned. “Gemma.”
“What?” she asked, hervoice throaty.
His blood pounded through his veins, rough and wild, urging him to stop talking. “Think for a moment.” Hell to the no. There should be no thinking. He grimaced and forced his body to stop acting like he was still eighteen. “I’ve been honest with you.”
“Me too.” Her gaze dropped to his lips.
He nearly bit through one to keep from kissing her again.“Listen to me.”
Her gaze jerked up, and her stunning eyes were slightly dilated. “Iam listening.”
Her butt was so sweet on his thighs he almost surrendered, but this was too important. “What I said before, about us, about you—that’s what I’d do assuming we’re colleagues. Friends.”
She blinked, her cheeks rosynow. “Friends?”
“Yes.” He was having trouble finding words. “Do you understand?”
“No.” She arched an eyebrow, and it was the sexiest thing he’d ever seen. “What are you saying?”
He allowed his free hand to settle at her waist and curve over her hip. She was a woman who’d fought hard for her independence, and she deserved to do whatever she wanted. “If we’re together, I protect you.” When she straightened he forged on. “I’d never hurt you, but I can’t allow anybody else to hurt you either. You want to be with me, I’m in charge until I take out Fletcher.” And quite possibly Monty Cameron. He wouldn’t murder the guy, but he might cause him enough trouble that he’d crawl back under the rock where he belonged. “Get it?”
“In charge?” Her eyes were still sleepy, but her tone had quickly sharpened.
“Yes. You can run, little dove, but I can fight. The hawkalways fights.”
She leaned back and yet remained on his legs. “I’m not sure this is a time for game theory.”
