Someone like the sheriff?
He felt a blast of something angry and irrational that he didn’t want to acknowledge.
“No. I told the doctor I would call someone.” He waited until she added, “I lied.”
Not for the first time.
She sighed as if she knew exactly what he was thinking. “Can I go upstairs now? Or do you want to check me for weapons first?’
“Good idea.” He should have thought of it himself. It was the first thing you did once you’d secured enemy combatants. A mistake like that could get him killed. He didn’t need another bullet in his shoulder. Which hurt like hell right now, by the way, after their scuffle.
She gasped as he crossed the distance between them and started to pat her down. It wasn’t anything he hadn’t done countless times with suspects or prisoners in numerous places around the globe. But no matter how hard he steeled his mind, he couldn’t separate the body he was feeling beneath the T-shirt and denim shorts from the naked one he’d caressed only a few months ago with his hands and mouth. He knew every inch of her. It had been consigned so deeply to his memory that even if he wanted to forget, he didn’t think he could. She wasfuller—softer—but it was all there in scorching-hot XXX detail.
No amount of steeling could prevent the rush of heat that surged through his blood from standing so close to her. She didn’t need a shower. She smelled incredible. The familiar citrusy scent of her girly shampoo and lotion filled his nose as the air between them grew thick with tension and memory.
There was nothing sensual in the cold, impersonal slide of his hands over her chest, hips, and legs, but when his hand skidded over her breast and her nipple tightened reflexively, he felt a tug in his groin that was so hard that he stopped for just an instant and had to clench his teeth against the urge to rub his thumb over the tip.
It was hard not to think about different times and circumstances. Times and circumstances where he would have let his hands linger. Where he would have pinched that beaded nipple between his fingers and then between his teeth. Where the slide of his hand up between her legs would have been much slower and with an entirely different purpose. To lead him to the sweet juncture between her thighs that was so soft and warm. She was always so wet for him. So slick and ready. She would tremble in his arms when he touched her. He could almost hear her soft little moan. A few strokes of his finger and she would go off like a...
Shit.Not what he should be thinking about.
He stopped and took a step back. But the feel of her still lingered on his hands and his body still swelled with heat.
“Finished?” she challenged, the high flush on her cheeks a hint that maybe he hadn’t been alone in his thoughts. “Are you sure you don’t want to look closer? I might have a stiletto built into my bra or a wire noose spun in my watch.”
Her sarcasm and his anger at his own thoughts broughthim up sharply. What the hell was he doing? How could he have forgotten even for a moment? “This isn’t a James Bond movie, Natalya. Eight of my men were killed because of what you did.”
She immediately sobered, the Academy Award–winning portrayal of heartfelt sorrow back in her eyes. “I’m so sorry, Scott. You have to believe me. I never meant for any of this to happen. I know you don’t want to hear it right now, but I lov—”
“You’re right,” he said before she could get the word out, every muscle in his body taut with anger. “I don’t want to hear it. Ever.”
How could she say that to him now? Before he’d gone on that damned mission, it would have made him the happiest man in the world. But not now. Now it just brought home how much of a lie it had all been.
None of that mattered anymore, and he had to focus on what did: getting her back to DC to clear his name and face her punishment. She could explain herself to a court. He didn’t care about her feelings or her reasons. This supposed baby was just a temporary hiccup.
And if God forbid by some hideous twist of fate she actually was pregnant?
He wouldn’t even think about it. She wasn’t. But he’d give her the night to prove it.
• • •
Natalie feared her plan wasn’t going to work. She’d gone to bed without a shower, unable to bear the idea of undressing near him even with the half-closed door partially blocking his view.
Considering how fast he’d divested her of her clothes that first night, it would have been funny if it wasn’t so painful.
Due to the nice, oversized window in the bathroom, he’d refused to let her close the door even to pee. She’dforced him to take her to the downstairs half bath—without a window—to do that. Some indignities were too much to bear without objection.
He’d waited for her in the kitchen, blocking the exit to the back door, and helped himself to one of the blueberry muffins she’d made the day before.
“Hungry?” she’d asked. “I can make you some more with some nice almond flavoring.”
His mouth twitched. He’d almost smiled before catching himself. “I think I prefer them arsenic-free.”
She gave a small, indifferent shrug of her shoulders. “Let me know if you change your mind. I could also make you an omelet—without the poison. I’m assuming you didn’t have dinner.”
“The muffin is fine.” He took another bite. “These are really good. You made them?”
“You don’t need to sound so surprised.”
