Free A Thousand Kisses Deep by Wendy Rosnau

as loony as Parish.
    She didn't look loony. She looked intelligent and beautiful. Too beautiful for everything on her body to be real.
    "Did you volunteer for this job, or did Merrick pick you hoping to scare the pants off me?"
    Her words sent Sly's gaze on another slow appraisal of her too beautiful body. The little brown bikini bottoms barely covered her gender.
    He rubbed his jaw. "As you said, I'm the ex-con. I'm the scary one."
    "You can go back and tell Merrick if he thinks sending me his badass is going to frighten me, he's mistaken."
    "If that's the case, why don't you come on over here and have a seat." Sly patted the rock next to him, knowing he was expecting a lot.
    She was definitely scared of him. Her breathing was still erratic and her pretty green eyes had been checking him out since he'd pulled himself out of the water.
    The question of the hour was, how unlucky could she get? Of all the men working for Merrick , how could she have gotten stuck with Sly McEwen? This man had sent chills down her spine just reading his profile on Simon's computer.
    Granted, none of the men who worked for Onyxx at present had shining résumés, but this man was definitely the black sheep of the outfit. And all male—every hump, bump and lump accounted for.
    His chest was corded, his torso densely muscled, and his legs looked like they could run a three-minute mile. He also carried a nasty-looking knife strapped to his bulky thigh.
    It was obvious he'd been sent to intimidate her. Was she suppose to shake and tremble, then give in to whatever he asked for? If that's what they were expecting, they were going to be disappointed. She'd survived Simon's worst and she would survive Sly McEwen's worst, too.
    Eva held his gaze. He was built with a machinelike efficient body that he balanced with a quietness that was almost spooky. It was obvious that his survival record hadn't involved luck. Not in prison, or as an Onyxx agent.
    Simon's file on the man listed him as impossibly tough, and dangerously efficient. The words rebel-ready came to mind.
    Determined to hold her ground against the baddest of the bad, she forced herself to move away from the rock. She stripped off her mask and shook out her wet hair, aware that he still continued to dissect her.
    Her bikini was one of her skimpiest, but she'd worn it with the intention of getting rid of tan lines. In fact at one point she'd been planning to strip it off completely.
    "Okay, McEwen. In good faith I'll give you a brief history lesson. It'll prove I'm not blowing smoke, and convince you that handing over the file will be worth it. That is if you want back on the scent of the Chameleon."
    "I'm all ears."
    Eva glanced at his attractive ears. No, he wasn't all ears. They were flat to his head, and suited him and his haircut.
    Pushing the crazy thought out of her head, she said, "The data in Simon's computer outlined the past twenty years of Onyxx. It listed agent requirements, and even went through the early years when only recruited military men qualified for the elite force. It profiled over fifty agents. At the present, as you know, things are different than they were in the early years. Agents no longer need to come from military backgrounds. The only requirement is that they are single. The rat fighters are civilian rebels who possess extraordinary survival skills. How am I doing?"
    "Keep going."
    Eva chose her next words carefully. "There was a section dedicated to the Chameleon, with a list of his triumphs over Onyxx. It seems he has become the ambassador for international criminals looking for full-time employment."
    "Does the file confirm who he is?"
    "I'm coming to that. When I hacked into Simon's computer and found the file things started coming back to me. Things I'd forgotten."
    "Important things?"
    "Only time will tell. The memory of the suckers put me on Adolf Merrick's trail and then one day a few weeks ago, after learning how to contact him, I gave him a call. And the