Page 41 of Forbidden Access

“It’s gorgeous,” she said hesitantly, not wanting to appear ungrateful. “But I’m not sure it’s me.”

“I’ve seen you in your wedding dress, remember?”

Damn. She had loved the feel of the silk on her skin, the way it swished around her legs. She hated that he knew that, that he had her all figured out.

How?

She hadn’t shown him any more of herself than she had others, yet he’d read her like an open book, like one of his crypto programs. Now he was pressing her buttons, making her do things, feel things, that she never normally would.

This had to stop.

“It’ll help you blend in,” he said, peeling off his shirt.

Oh, God.

Why did she want to run her hands over his chest so badly? To lose herself in the smell, the taste, the feel of him? She gulped down the urge.

She had to put an end to this… this madness.

Putting down the dress, she said, “Damian, I think we’d better talk about what happened.”

“So now you want to talk?” He winked at her, teasing. It made her heart do an odd flip-flop. Since when did they have this light-hearted banter?

At her exasperated look, he relented. “Okay, sure. Let me have a shower, and I’ll meet you downstairs. Clara recommended a great little place where we can get dinner.”

Nooo! The thought of going out to dinner with him was too much. It wasn’t a date. He was making this sound like a vacation.

“We’re supposed to be hiding out,” she gritted out, trying desperately not to look at his bronzed chest, those toned muscles on display. He might not be as bulky as the SEALs she’d worked with, but he had clear-cut definition, and a six-pack that she wanted to run her tongue over.

Holy hell, what had gotten into her?

“I know, but there’s no law that says we can’t have fun in the process.”

She frowned. Fun equaled distraction equaled danger.

“It’s on the other side of the square.” He spread his arms wide. “We’ve got to eat.”

That was true.

If they didn’t go there, they’d have to go somewhere else, so they may as well try the restaurant Clara had recommended.

“Okay, sure,” she relented, turning her back on him before he could peel off his jeans. That would be a step too far. Having felt his hardness against her on the trail, she didn’t think she could handle seeing it in the flesh.

“I won’t be long,” he said, and she heard the bathroom door click shut.

Exhaling, Thorn eyed the dress lying on the bed.

Should she?

Outside, the sky was deepening into a rich, unrelenting blue, and while the sun still shone brightly, it wasn’t as high as it had been.

Would it be so wrong to put it on? It was pretty, and it would feel good against her skin. Her jeans were dusty and worn, her T-shirt still fresh, but she could save it for another day. It would save doing laundry.

Just one day, she whispered to herself. I’ll give myself one day to be a normal woman.

It seemed safe enough here in the mountain village. So far, she’d seen nothing out of the ordinary. Nothing that raised alarms.

But twenty-four hours was all she was going to compromise on. Then she’d snap back to reality. This craziness could not be allowed to continue. She was a former Special Agent, for heaven’s sake, and she had a job to do. Not even that silver-eyed devil would prevent her from doing it.

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