Free Sex, Lies and Valentines by Tawny Weber

and the wall behind her.
    But when his hand slid up her hip, under the cloud-soft fabric of her sweater to touch her bare skin, it was like he’d pinched her awake from a very sexy dream.
    “No,” she murmured, pulling her mouth from his. “We can’t.”
    “Blondie, we definitely can.” His body pressed a little tighter against hers, the hard length of his erection echoing his promise.
    “No.” Horrified at how hard it was—saying no, not the erection—she pressed both palms against his chest to put some space between them so she could slide under his arm.
    She was on the job. He was a criminal, a man who in any other situation she’d be trying to arrest.
    Danita didn’t look back. As fast as she could in her platform pumps, she hurried up the wide sweep of stairs. She needed distance. She needed to think.
    Most of all, she needed control.
    Never before had she been so turned on. Not by a kiss, not by a man. And definitely not by watching a criminal pull strings and play a room full of dirtbags.
    Shoving the door to their room open, she let it slam against the wall as her eyes blurred with tears. Gasping for breath, she hurried to the bathroom where she locked the door—a feeble barrier—and splashed cold water on her cheeks until she regained control.
    “You’ve worked your ass off for this career,” she told herself, glaring a warning at her reflection. “You’ve spent the last ten years escaping the prison of that damned trailer park life. You will not, dammit, blow it over one sexy man.”
    She took a deep breath, noting the desire-dilated pupils and flush coating her from cleavage to hairline. Her nipples were sharp points through the soft black fabric of her sweater.
    “No matter how sexy he is. Despite the fact that you’ve never felt anything like this, ever before, it’s not worth blowing your life over.”
    Her lecture warring with the montage of images of Gabriel—his bare skin, his wicked grin and the cleverly cocky way he’d manipulated the situation.
    Danita closed her eyes and tried to call up the image of her childhood home, that broken-down trailer, the guttural sounds of yet another of her mother’s drunken hookups coming from the front room while Danita was locked in the back.
    That’s what falling for a pretty face and clever line brought the women in her family. That, and a broken heart. The lure of sex had proven, over and over again, to be kryptonite for her mother, her aunt, even her grandmother.
    Danita’s job, embracing her career, had got her away from that life. Through it, she’d proven she wasn’t like her family.
    So do your job, she thought as she stared at herself in the mirror. Do the job, and watch your ass.

5
    GABRIEL STOOD IN the town square, in the exact same spot he had reunited with his brother earlier. As the cool night air washed over him, he glared across the street at the brightly lit New Age store.
    He’d once conned a dinner party of twenty crooked business executives, convincing them to invest in a movie he’d claimed was in production. He’d named actors, locations, everything. The chances of that con blowing up in his face had been huge. The risk of conning a bunch of thieves had been major.
    And he hadn’t been nearly as nervous then as he was now, preparing to face his family.
    “Are you going to be able to pull this off?” Danita asked behind him. Her tone was matter-of-fact. Abrupt, even. But he heard the concern, and just a little bit of sympathy, beneath her words. He wished she wasn’t with him. It was bad enough being forced back into the family fold. But doing it with an FBI escort really chafed.
    Since that FBI escort was the sexiest thing he’d ever tasted—a flavor he was worried he could become addicted to—the part that was chafing was pressed against his zipper.
    Gabriel glanced over at Danita, noting that she’d toned down her look for the party. Instead of teased and poofed, her hair was sleek and soft around that pretty