Page 71 of Risky Desires

“Many would disagree.” I stepped back from him, trying to escape his manly scent.

“Maybe they don’t know him.”

“You think you know him?” I folded my arms.

He shrugged. “I guess not. But I know his type.”

“Oh yeah, and what type is that?”

“The type who would kill to protect their family.”

He had that right. It was a pity Dad hadn’t been able to save Mom that way.

We fell into an easy silence that wasn’t strained or awkward. It was new territory for me to be around a virtual stranger and not feel guarded.

Every so often, I sensed his blue eyes watching me, but he would shift them away before I could catch him.

I had the feeling he was gearing up to ask me something I wouldn’t want to answer, so I said, “What’s your story, Kingsley?”

“Story?”

“Yeah, you know, kids? Wife? Trail of destruction behind you?”

He released a nervous chuckle, and I blinked at him. Had I hit a nerve?

“None of that.”

“What? No baggage?”

He shrugged. “Nope.”

“Hmmm.”

“Ever think about life off the boat?” His gaze fixed on me.

“Nope. And you changed the subject.”

“No, I didn’t. I told you I don’t have any baggage.”

“Then either you’re a fucking hermit or a liar.”

A fleeting shadow crossed his face but was hidden quickly by a half-smile. I had a feeling that he had some serious baggage.

I turned to the endless ocean ahead. “Don’t worry. You don’t have to tell me.”

He sighed. “It’s not that I don’t want to.”

I swooped my gaze at him, and a flicker of sadness crossed his eyes.

“I can’t tell you,” he finished.

I cocked my eyebrow. “Were you in the Secret Service or something?”

“Or something.” He shrugged, and for some crazy reason, I believed him.

“Playing with the big boys, huh?”

“Yep.” His tone held no malice, yet it was disarming. “What about you?”

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