Nope.
I drop the gun and launch myself at her.
My arms wrap around her waist just as her fingers brush the drive. The impact sends us both crashing over the desk. Papers scatter everywhere, and the lamp topples over and shatters, plunging the room back into darkness.
We hit the floor hard.
She twists beneath me, her elbow driving into my ribs. The pain flares through my side, and I grunt, but I don't let go.
She's fast. Faster than anyone I've fought before.
Her knee comes up, aiming for my groin, but I shift my hips and block it with my thigh. She bucks, throwing me off her.
We scramble to our feet, and she comes at me. Her fist catches me in the jaw, followed by another blow. I block it and drive my elbow into her chest, pushing her back.
She smiles and comes at me again. She kicks me, and my left arm takes the brunt of the force. She tries with the other, and my right hand catches her leg, and I toss her backward.
We wrestle back and forth, her hair coming loose, and her long blonde hair flows down her shoulders. In the chaos, her shampoo is the only thing I can smell.
She headbutts me, and I stumble back. She goes to strike me again, and I grab her wrist, then twist, letting her momentum crash into me. I then sweep her legs and send her crashing to the floor. I jump on top of her, straddling her hips and pinning both her wrists to the floor.
We go dead still.
Both of us are breathing hard, our chests heaving. Sweat drips down my temple. The pain in my side is a roaring inferno, but I hold on.
She looks up at me, her eyes glinting in the faint moonlight filtering through the broken window.
Her lips part slightly, and for a moment, neither of us moves as we catch our breath.
"You've got to stop getting yourself into these positions with me," I say, smiling.
"I can't help myself," she says in a mocking tone.
I laugh and lean down, my face inches from hers. "My charm working on you now?"
Her gaze drops to my mouth. Slowly, deliberately, she licks her lips.
"Maybe," she says as her eyes drop lower.
Not to my gun.
To the unmistakable bulge pressing against the front of my pants.
She raises one eyebrow, amusement flashing across her face before she slowly looks back up at me.
"But I see my charm is working on you."
My pulse hammers as heat crawls up the back of my neck.
Traitor.
Every muscle in my body knows she's the enemy. She stabbed me. She'd kill me without losing a second of sleep.
Apparently, my body didn't get the fucking memo.
"Why are you here?" I ask, my voice rough.
"Why are you?" she counters. "What did he do to your family?"
