“Why are you here?” he asked again.

Max moved into the kitchen, hunting through the cabinet for the bottle of pain pills the doctor had given him for his headaches. He poured out two in his hand and then grabbed a soda from the fridge to wash it down. He tossed one to Jade and she caught it one handed.

She shrugged and popped the top on her soda. “I told you. I’m here because those were my orders.”

Max couldn’t read the expression on her face. Jade had gotten good at that over the years. She’d been trained as a sniper—to have patience in all things and to think through the best possible outcome. She was quiet in nature and often too serious, but he thought that might have to do with her upbringing as an orphan more than anything. And at the moment, she was closed up tight and nothing he could do or say would get her to tell him the truth until she was damned good and ready.

“The whole team is here and Atticus will explain everything all at one time,” she said. “We’ve got a mess on our hands.”

Max’s brows rose and then he winced as the movement pulled at the cut by his eye. “So it took direct orders for you to finally face me?”

“It just sped up the process.” She gave a secret half smile. “I would have gotten here eventually. Now go take your shower and I’ll tend to the cuts on your face before everyone shows up.”

“At some point, Jade, we’re going to have a long conversation. I hope to God you’re ready for it.”

He stalked toward his bedroom, his body trembling with the fading adrenaline and his head pounding so hard he could barely see. He needed her with a ferocity that he’d never experienced before, and it had only grown stronger and wilder since their time apart. She was going to have to tell him exactly what she wanted, without other agendas or needs clouding the issue, because his control was hanging by a thread.

Chapter Three

Jade let out a slow breath when Max headed out of the room. The way he’d been looking at her had been so full of hunger and lust she’d felt the tingles of attraction sliding across her skin. Anyone would be shaking in her boots after seeing a look that hot and full of desire.

She was glad to see Max was a creature of habit when it came to how he lived. The apartment reflected him—solid and comfortable and a little bit dominating. The first-aid kit was under the kitchen sink where he always kept it, and she got everything out and ready on the kitchen table.

She started a pot of coffee for Max—he practically lived on the stuff—and she grabbed another soda for herself. She unstrapped her holster from her thigh and laid it on the countertop—the backup weapon she kept at the small of her back went next to it. More than half an hour had passed before she heard the water shut off.

Feet finally padded against the floor behind her and she smiled as familiarity settled over her. “You’ve got too much gourmet food in your fridge to fulfill the single man living alone cliché,” she said, turning around to tease. But the words died on her lips as she got a good look at him. Her mouth became dry and her heart thudded in her chest.

If his body had been a sculpture when she’d seen it three years ago, it was a masterpiece now. Sweatpants rode low on his hips and a towel was draped around his neck to catch the droplets of water from his hair. He had to have been pushing himself in his workouts because his chest and shoulders were broader, the muscles more defined. And that was saying something, because they’d been pretty spectacular before.

“What can I say? I’m a man who likes to eat.”

“Let me look at those cuts.” She somehow managed to get the words past her frozen vocal cords. He sat in one of the hardback chairs, and she could tell by the little half smile on his face he was more than enjoying her reaction to him.

He spread his knees so she could get in close and get a better look at the cuts. The heat of his body felt like a warm blanket and the space between them was so charged with energy it was like she could feel him sliding his hands across her body.

This didn’t feel like the last time—when she’d been so desperate—so full of hurt and rage and longing. This time the chemistry wasn’t a figment of her imagination. And she had a decision to make. It was obvious he wanted her. He’d said he’d wanted her for years, and she’d never even realized.

He wouldn’t have said or done anything while Donovan was still alive because Max was an honorable man, but it amazed her she’d never noticed. Usually a woman could sense when a man was attracted to her, but Max had marked himself as friend and had never once crossed the line. She knew this mission was about to change that.

The question was, would they be able to go back to how things were when it ended? Because there was no doubt in her mind it would end. The Max she knew had never had a long-term relationship. Not to mention with his background and who his family was, he’d eventually need someone who could continue the Devlin legacy and produce an heir. And that person wasn’t her.

She’d already made the promise to herself that she would never marry again—never give her heart and soul to one person the way she had with Donovan. That kind of love hurt too much, and she wasn’t strong enough to take it again.

“How’s your headache?” she asked.

“The medication is kicking in. Though I bet if you kissed me it would work better than the drugs to ease the pain.”

She’d spent months wondering if he’d really wanted her as he’d said. Wondering if he’d turned her down because he didn’t want to hurt her feelings. Her experience with men wasn’t vast. Donovan had been her first and only lover. She wasn’t good at reading subtleties or playing the dating game. She was blunt and preferred when others were the same because it was what she understood.

If he’d really been overcome by the sight and feel of her when he’d rejected her before, then he never would have been able to stop. Would he? But she couldn’t be imagining the interest she saw in his eyes now. She could go into an affair with her eyes wide open this time, without the guilt plaguing her or the anger making her do things she normally wouldn’t. This would be a healthy meeting of minds and bodies between two people who knew what they were getting into. And when the mission was over, they could go back to the way things were before she’d screwed them up.

Jade couldn’t, and wouldn’t, expect anything more from him than a casual affair. Max deserved to have a woman who was whole, who could give him a home and children and hold up the traditions of the Devlin name. She could no longer offer that to any man. Not to mention his grandparents would probably have an apoplexy if he brought home a mixed-race orphan girl from Louisiana. Her future was in her work, and that would have to be enough to fulfill her.

“You’ve still got some splinters embedded in the skin,” she said, touching around the deepest cut near his eye.

She grabbed the tweezers and got to work, taking out the thin slivers of wood as the wounds bled sluggishly. He didn’t flinch and he stayed perfectly still, but his gaze never left her face. His eyes were heavy lidded, and the brown contacts were gone so the brilliant blue blazed with hunger.

Warmth spread through her body and it felt as if some invisible thread was binding them closer, though their bodies weren’t touching. She stood between his open thighs, basking in his heat and enjoying the feel of him beneath her fingers.