Page 68 of Unlawful Seduction

Her exclamation made me chuckle. “How did you sleep?” It was a typical question you’d ask anyone who’d stayed in your house overnight. Polite. Non-intrusive. The decent thing to do.

Now most people honestly didn’t give a shit. At least not enough to spend more than a few seconds listening to a basic answer. Oddly enough, I did care.

“Like a rock,” Mallory said as she brushed hair behind her ear. The gesture was subtle, but drew my complete and rapt attention. She seemed embarrassed for some reason, the light flush on her face followed by two darts of her eyes in my direction.

She was wearing another tee shirt, this one long sleeved and so large on her, it almost reached her knees.

We hadn’t spent the night in bed talking until the wee hours of the morning. I hadn’t ravaged her several times like I’d initially thought about. I’d sensed space was needed.

For both of us.

Now I was certain I was right.

Mallory wasn’t a typical woman by any means. She was strong and independent in a way that left her craving spending time alone. That was another reason I’d been so drawn to her. There was nothing clingy about her.

“Good.” I grabbed the mug of coffee I’d prepared for her, adding something a little special. I don’t know why, but doing so had felt important to me. As I headed toward her, she seemed almost fidgety, shifting from foot to foot. She didn’t attempt to avoid our fingers touching as she had the morning before, but she was almost as uncomfortable as she’d been.

Being intimate didn’t necessarily break down barriers. There was too much baggage standing in our way of being completely honest with one another.

Or with ourselves.

She held the mug with both hands, immediately walking toward the window. Taking my eyes off her wasn’t an option. “The snow stopped.”

“Around three-thirty this morning.”

“Does that mean you were awake?”

“I was.” I headed to the Keurig machine. This morning called for another cup of java just to get going. My muscles ached, my back stiff. I wondered if my condition had anything to do with the evening of fulfilling my hunger.

She turned to face me, leaning against the counter. “Don’t you ever sleep?” I watched as she finally took a sip, her eyes lighting up. “Irish Cream!”

“Do you like it?”

“Are you kidding me?” Her voice sounded like a kitten’s purr.

“I thought you might enjoy it. As far as your question, I rarely sleep.”

“Because you’re always on duty.”

She made the comment into a statement. “I gave up serving my country a long time ago.”

“But you were in the armed forces.”

There was no reason not to tell her the truth. She’d never learn my true identity. Confessing all my sins would completely place her life in a path of danger. “The Marines.”

“Admirable.”

“Necessary. Jail time or enter the military. Those were my options.” How ironic the offer had been made, but he’d all but forced me to work with a criminal years later. The irony wasn’t lost on me and had never been.

“Ouch,” she said. “By the court system?”

“By my father. Tough old bird.” I laughed as memories of my mom and dad entered my mind. There was also anger there, enough that I fisted my hand. I wouldn’t be in this shitty place if he hadn’t been such a deadbeat.

“Like father, like son. Right?”

“Something like that.”

“But you entered a life of crime anyway.”

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