Page 44 of The Survivor
“It’s early. Go back to sleep,” he said gruffly, tangling his fingers in her hair.
“Not until you tell me why you’re lying here with a frown on your face.” She yawned, then propped up on her elbow.
The sight of her bare breasts distracted him and he couldn’t help but reach out and drag his thumb over one rosy nipple.
“Oh, no, you don’t,” she said, swatting his hand away. “Answer the question.”
He smiled in the darkness. “What question?”
“The frown, Blake.”
Sensing that she wouldn’t let it go, his face grew serious. “I’m just thinking.”
“About what?”
“You. This case.”
“Will you get in trouble for sleeping with me?”
He laughed at the little girl voice she used. “Not unless I call up my supervisor and give him a play-by-play of yesterday’s events.” His laugh caught in his throat. “I need this case to be over, Sam.”
A shadow crossed her face, and she sat up. She wrapped the blanket over her shoulders and moved into a cross-legged position, her bare knees poking out of the covers.
“It’s really taking a toll on you, chasing this guy.”
“It hasn’t been that bad,” he lied.
She gave a soft laugh. “Yeah? So explain the constant headaches. Or that knot between your shoulders that years of massage therapy probably couldn’t get out.”
“As I said, I want it to be over.”
“God, so do I.” She sighed. “I want him captured, Blake.”
Before he could reply, she tossed the blanket aside and got out of bed. Across the room, a part in the curtains allowed for a sliver of dawn light to stream inside and he couldn’t help but admire her smooth, slender body. She looked every inch the model—high, full breasts; hand-span waist; curvy bottom and never-ending legs. His body tightened at the gorgeous sight.
She headed for the foot of the bed, grabbed the shirt he’d been wearing last night and slipped it over her head. His breath hitched. Damn, there was nothing sexier than a woman in a man’s shirt.
No, there was nothing sexier thanthiswoman inhisshirt.
“I’ll put on a pot of coffee,” she said, then disappeared into the hallway.
Blake stayed in bed and closed his eyes, wondering if he should try to force sleep. If he slept, he wouldn’t have to think about how he’d just made love to the woman he was supposed to be protecting. Wouldn’t need to combat the desire that pulsedthrough him at the knowledge that Sam was in his kitchen, naked under his shirt.
Unfortunately, he was wide-awake and unable to get the wicked image of Sam out of his mind.
He slid out of bed, put on his boxers and headed downstairs, where he found her leaning against the marble kitchen counter as she waited for the coffee machine to do its thing.
Her gaze immediately went to his bare chest and the small smile she shot him hit him in the gut and made his groin stiffen. He could see why so many men had bought that swimsuit edition. He would’ve bought ten years of issues just to see that smile.
He crossed the distance between them and pulled her close. Her arms tightened around him. Pressing her lips to his throat, she planted a soft kiss on his skin then buried her face in the crook of his neck. “God, that smells good,” she murmured.
“Thank you?”
“I was referring to the coffee.”
He offered a rogue grin. “Sureyou were.”
She ran a hand across the nape of his neck and the little hairs there tingled from the warmth of her touch. “You know, you should smile more often. You look nice when you smile.”
