Free HIS Choice: An H.I.S. Novel (H.I.S. series Book 2) by Sheila Kell Page B

incredibly seductive smile and chuckled. “No, that’s my bag. I sleep in the spare room.”
    She panicked. Flirting for fun was one thing, but it could give him the wrong impression of her feelings for him. And if he were here at night, he might try to progress things.
    “Whoa. You don’t need to stay here. Didn’t you say your partner would keep watch at night? Couldn’t you just accompany me during the day?”
    “Look, doll. . . ”
    She normally wouldn’t care for that endearment but from him, the way he said it with a drawl and a lop-sided smile made her want to giggle like a schoolgirl.
    “You just had a visit at your home. You hired me to keep you safe. This is how I’ll do it.” He stepped closer to her and lightly caressed her cheek. “Don’t worry. I won’t be in your room at night.” He chuckled and walked away, tossing over his shoulder, “Unless you ask.”
    Megan closed her eyes and rubbed her temples to ward off a building headache. She needed to clear her mind and direct her thoughts to her investigation.
    She walked into the kitchen she’d renovated. It always made her smile. She ran her fingers lightly over the almost black, granite countertop with mixed specks of gold, white and rusted orange. Gold flecks had danced in AJ’s eyes when they’d been…
Ugh!
Forget him.
    Bob’s pitiful meow brought her out of thoughts she didn’t want to have. “You are too heavy to be toted around like a baby. I bet you’re hungry? Dry food not good enough?” She waited for the inevitable strong, deep meow when he begged for his treat. Hearing it she laughed. “Okay.”
    “Do you always talk to your cat?”
    Busted. Crazy cat lady is most likely what he thought. “Only so long as he doesn’t talk back except with a meow.”
    “Cheeky. I like you, doll. Now what about dinner?” He opened the refrigerator and peeked in.
    Oh no. Coming in, taking over and expecting her to cook for him. No way. Protection was one thing. Catering to him was another.
    “Looks like you have the makings of Chicken Parmesan. I can throw it together if you’d make us a salad?”
    She assessed him. He was good looking, had a great personality, protects women and cooks. There must be something terribly wrong with the woman who hurt him.
    “Great, you have a gas stove. Don’t you love the extra burner? I don’t use all of mine that often but it comes in handy when you entertain.”
    First he loved the fireplace, now the stove. Next he’d be singing the praises of her tub, and she’d need to marry him because it couldn’t get much better than that.
    She pointed over her shoulder. “I’ll just, um, go change.”
    After eating an excellent dinner and jointly cleaning the dishes, she settled down on her comfy chair in the living room while Trent conferred with his partner who’d been outside.
    She preferred her overstuffed, oversized, flowery chair to the plush, pale green sofa or love seat in her living room. Kevin had laughed when she’d moved it with her from Biloxi. She’d bought it at a second-hand store her junior year in college and it showed its age.
    She slouched down, put her feet on the coffee table and then covered herself with her favorite burgundy throw. Sighing, she needed only one more thing to help relax her enough to get to work and blank out that meeting with the sexy enforcer. Background noise. She turned the television on, switching it to the news. They were reporting on the recent prison escape. She couldn’t resist. She opened her laptop and began to research it.
    Her search results had just appeared when her cell phone rang. Aggravated, she snatched up the phone, and answered without checking the caller ID.
    “Hello,” she said tersely.
    “Hi, baby.”
    Dang it all to hell and back!
“Hello, Marcus. What do you want? I don’t recall our having anything to say to each other,” she managed through tight lips.
    “Reading your articles and seeing how much danger you put yourself in, made me