Page 42 of One Secret

And not once has Darcy's scarred touch ever been a turn-off.

In fact... a little friction can be a damn powerful aphrodisiac. Knowing your girl won't break with a little rough handling is seriously attractive.

As soon as we're alone in the suite, with the door locked behind us, Darcy opens her mouth to speak but I press a finger to my lips. It takes me ten minutes to do a proper sweep of the room and, after finding nothing that might be used as a listening device, I give her the nod.

'You really need to relax,' are the first words out of her mouth as she parks it on the end of one of the beds. The suite boasts two king-sizes, each draped in snowy linens. The dark wood of the headboard is tall and casts a frame around her lithe figure.

I'm constantly struck anew at what a great body Darcy has. Lean like a runner. Strong like a fighter. Elegant as a ballerina.

'How do you mean?' I ask, stalling. Save the near-constant state of tension in my groin, I've been relaxed all day. Sort of.

'You look like you're on high alert,' she says.

'That is my "relaxed".'

Or at least the state of being I'm most used to.

'Yeah well, it's not the "relaxed" of a guy going on vacation with his girlfriend. You scrutinized that lobby like you suspected ninjas around every corner. Aren't you supposed to be getting these guys to trust you? They're not going to offer it up, if you don't at least look like you're paying it forward.'

So, that's what the elbow to the gut had been about.

'One day on the job and she's already a covert specialist,' I mutter aloud, taking to my duffel. I never unpack. Living out of my luggage keeps things simple if I have to leave in a hurry. But I like to double-check my inventory with every new location.

Darcy doesn't try to defend herself against my mockery. She just sits there, one long leg regally draped over the other, her palms braced on the blankets behind her.

'They know what I do for a living, Darcy,' I remind her. 'They'll expect me to be cautious.'

'Cautious, yes. So tense you look constipated, no,' she shoots me a pointed finger. 'You also need to stop glowering at me.'

'I'm glowering at you?' This is news to me.

Darcy just raises an eyebrow.

'You keep frowning at me like I've just farted in an enclosed space. You wanna try a look with a little loving, instead?'

I sigh and rub at the back of my neck. I can feel a headache coming on.

'I don't suppose,' I say, throwing the lapels of my duffel back together and cinching the zipper into place, 'you have any positive reviews of my performance thus far?'

Darcy's lower lip pouts in dramatic sympathy.

'Are we in need of a little affirmation?' she croons.

That does it.

I stalk rapidly towards her and, bending low, cover her hands with mine. She has to lean away to avoid us butting heads and I watch that beautiful collarbone of hers hollow out as her shoulders rise and her neck stretches long and swanlike.

'What I need,' I growl against her mouth, 'is a tension release.'

Darcy gets with the program quickly. The expression heats, her eyes gleam. She runs her tongue over her lips, slow and deliberate. I'm so close I can almost taste it against mine.

'I thought you said you were relaxed,' she challenges. That bold gaze of hers hones in on my mouth. My lips tingle under their clinging stare.

'Of stepping into an enemy den, I'm perfectly calm,' I explain. 'Being so infinitely close to you for the last four hours on the other hand...'

'Are you calling me stressful?' she accuses.

Prying one of her hands from the mattress, I bring it around... and press her palm hard against the front of my jeans.

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