LITMIR.BIZ

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wished like crazy that the eye roll was enough to make them go away.

      Blake let go of one of her arms, reaching up and rubbing his thumb over her lips. A gentle caress quickly followed by an equally gentle kiss. When he pulled back, she sighed.

      “I’d say we showed each other,” he said quietly.

      It wasn’t a promise or declaration. It probably wasn’t even meant to be a reassurance. But she felt as if it was both. A promise that he didn’t think less of her and the reassurance that he’d stepped just as far outside his normal as she had.

      “I guess we did.” Her smile was about as big as her lips would stretch, but still not even close to how large and bright the bubble of joy inside her chest felt. “I suppose you should get back inside and meet that friend?”

      She nibbled on her bottom lip, anxious to hear his response. He didn’t make her wait long.

      “Nah. We can go inside and have another drink if you’d like, though.” He didn’t sound excited. But he didn’t let go of her, either, so she took his lack of enthusiasm to be for the drink, not the company.

      Alexia took a deep breath. She’d told herself one night. And she’d already proven that she wasn’t a chaste good girl who required a ring—or hell, even dinner—for a sex romp. So there was nothing to stop her from grabbing on to her entire night.

      “Did you want to go back to my place?” she asked. “I just have to call a cab.”

      His lips shifted, a slow, sexy smile curving his mouth. The kind that lit up his eyes and made her want to hug him close because he was so damn cute.

      “I’ve got my truck.” He let go of her and reached into his pocket, handing over her panties. “You might want these, though. I held on to them so they wouldn’t get all sandy.”

      “Aren’t you the gentleman,” she teased, gratefully taking the tiny scrap of silk.

      “You know it. And I’d like to think the only abrasions you’re going to have on your thighs are coming from my whiskers.”

      Alexia’s breath caught. Her heart danced. And her body—which should be sexually satisfied enough to last for weeks—did a giddy little cheer.

      “Then let’s see how soon we can make that happen,” she said, wriggling into her panties, then holding out her hand.

      When he wrapped his fingers in hers, she began the mental chant one night, one night, one night.

      One helluva night.

5

      EVERYWHERE BLAKE LOOKED was desert. Weapons fired around him, shots flaring like fireworks, bright and loud. Their quick in-and-out rescue had taken a left turn. Not a problem. SEALs were always prepared. He radioed in to report the ambush while Phil and Cade pulled the rocket launcher out of the pack.

      “Knock knock.” Phil grinned.

      Blake jackknifed into a sitting position. One fist rose in fury, the other slapped to his hip for his sidearm. But his hip was naked.

      Just like the rest of him.

      Shuddering, he swiped his forearm over the sweat trickling off his brow and took stock.

      Naked. In bed. Sexy female body curled in the sheets next to him. Sunrise was peeking through uncurtained windows. Other than a long dresser and a stack of moving boxes, them and the bed, the room was empty.

      Alexia’s condo. Where he’d been for two incredible, sex-filled, erotically intense days. He turned his head. She was splayed across the satin sheet where she’d collapsed after their last round. Facedown, vivid red curls curtaining her face and shoulders, so only a hint of her rose tattoo peeked out, she was totally zoned. Given that they’d slept maybe a sum total of six of the last fifty-two hours, he wasn’t surprised.

      But he was grateful.

      Wanting air, needing space, he carefully slid from the bed, grabbed his jeans and left the room. He skirted packing boxes, still lined and neatly labeled against the living-room wall. She hadn’t been kidding when she said she’d just moved from New York. Most of her stuff, except a few large pieces of furniture, was still packed.

      He was pretty sure she’d been here a week or two. Wouldn’t most women have hit the boxes, hung the curtains, filled the space with doodads by now?

      Not that they’d talked much, but he’d got the impression during one of their between-sex rest breaks that she wasn’t in any hurry to settle in. Why? Missing New York? Not a fan of the California sun? He knew she’d lived here before, but not when. What’d made her leave? Was the job going to be enough to keep her here this time?

      And why did he care so much?

      Caring, wanting to know she’d be here long-term, curiosity about her past, her present, her future. Those were all off-limits. Bad ideas for a man who played Russian roulette for a living.

      He crossed the cool living-room floor, his feet silent on the Mexican tiles, around the dining table and into the nook of a kitchen. A coffeepot, a single pan and a pair of wineglasses were all that were visible. He skipped the glass and stuck his head under the faucet, letting the cold water wash away the remnants of nausea his dream had caused.

      He hadn’t used sex to numb the memories, but if he’d been the type to do that kind of thing, it sure as hell hadn’t worked. He shook the water off his hair, grabbing a paper towel to dry his face, and stared out the small window at the smaller garden beyond. Bright tropical-looking flowers bloomed, innocent and welcoming.

      He felt happy and alive and filled with the weirdest sort of contentment with Alexia. She made him laugh. Watching her the few times she’d slept had filled him with a scary sort of peace. Her body was a wonderland, one he wanted to explore and lose himself in over and over again.

      He didn’t belong here.

      He didn’t do relationships, for one. And even though she’d made sounds like she wasn’t looking for one either, she was the relationship kind of woman. Or maybe just the kind of woman who meant relationships to him.

      He was due back on base the day after tomorrow. Most likely out of the country before the end of the week. And she didn’t do navy guys. At least, Blake winced, she didn’t when the guy was honest and up front before she’d done him.

      Time to cut it short. Say goodbye, get back to real life. His gaze dropped from the view to his hands. Hands that just hours ago had been all over Alexia. Had touched, explored every inch of her delectable body. Hands that were as competent with a weapon as they were at bringing her to a screaming orgasm. Hands that were weapons.

      He remembered the devastation on Phil’s mom’s face at the service. Blake’s only comfort had been that nobody would be that torn up if he ended up in a flag-covered box. His only relation was his mom, who probably wouldn’t sober up enough to attend. It was better that way.

      Better not to get involved with someone. Not to ask them to risk caring, to risk being hurt.

      Easier.

      * * *

      ALEXIA WOKE with a slow, moaning sort of sigh. Every muscle, every inch of her body was soaked in satisfaction. She could barely move, and wasn’t even sure she wanted to wake. Except in sleep, she’d miss out on the fun and games. And she really, really liked fun and games with Blake.

      With a soft, purring sort of moan, she rolled onto her back, shoved her hair out of her face and scanned the bed. The wide, empty expanse of bed.

      She frowned. Where was Blake? His belt was still draped over her dresser handle, and his shoes there by the door. She should go look for him, but she needed a break. Time to figure out why she felt so empty waking without him next to her.

      That was stupid,

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