Free Circle of Desire by Carla Swafford Page A

age.
    “You need to be briefed on our policies. Then we’ll test you to see what skills you possess and the best way to utilize them.” He watched one corner of her mouth quirk up as she tried to hold back the smile. “What’s so funny?”
    “You.” She gave up the struggle and grinned big. “All your policies, testing, and utilizing. Why don’t you talk like a regular person? And tell me in plain English what you want?” She raised one knee and the robe parted, exposing a long, smooth length of gentle muscled thigh to trim ankle. His hands itched to clasp her legs around his neck again and rejoice in the taste and heat of her body.
    Relaxed and smiling up at him, she revealed her true danger. Her sex appeal. Deep inside he’d realized he held an intense attraction to her. But for now, at the beginning of her training, he needed to keep her at arm’s length to a certain degree, holding himself away from her like a carrot in front of a donkey. He studied her face. If she could read his thoughts, he would be dead for comparing her to a donkey.
    She turned on her stomach, arms folded across the armrest, chin on top, looking at him with a poignant softness. Though she appeared all sweetness and femininity, he knew she was lethal. What method would she use to kill him? Her hand slammed into his nose, shoving bone and cartilage through his skull, killing him instantly? Or debilitating him with a hand to his crotch and then a twist of his neck? The latter took strength or skill. While she’d been handcuffed to the bed, he’d experienced firsthand the well-trained muscles defined beneath her silky skin. She had many deadly skills.
    In the business of training some of the most dangerous people in the world, he’d used every method possible to bond the individual to the organization. Over the years, he’d trained only two top operatives personally, leaving the others to the normal process, and neither had been as dangerous as Olivia. Plus the intimate bonding with the earlier operatives had never lasted longer than the six-month training, even though they remained friends.
    With his gaze lingering on her, she stood and shrugged, dropping the robe to the floor.
    “You were staring at me so intently that I figured you wanted to see me naked again.” She bent a knee, placing her bare foot against the other ankle and lifting her breasts like an offering.
    His cock sprang to attention. He wanted to take her on the floor, thrust into the hot depths of her body he’d tasted and remembered so well. One step, then another brought him close enough to smell her. The ordinary light flowery scents of soap and shampoo all women indulged in contradicted what he knew about her. No ordinary woman could hold an eighteen-pound sniper rifle, much less shoot one. Perversely the thought had his cock weeping for her touch.
    He leaned over; his shoulder skimmed her hip. His mouth mere inches from the place he wanted to return to, he inhaled the faint musk of her arousal. Her sharp intake of breath satisfied his inner demon. Always good to know she wanted him as badly. He picked up the robe and placed it on her shoulders. He swept her hair from beneath the robe and brushed his fingers across a high cheekbone.
    “Go to bed and sleep. I’ll wake you at five. We’ll start with exercise and go from there,” he said a mere breath from her lips. That his voice or fingers didn’t tremble proved he remained in control.
    “We could do some exercise tonight,” her tongue glided over his lips, “in bed.”
    Heat shot to his groin. Damn. The woman’s moves could easily bring him to his knees if he let her. His pulse sped up with the thought of tonguing her clit and tasting honey again.
    Placing a finger over her mouth, he held his head away. “Go to bed. Alone.”
    He walked toward the door and paused to key in the code. An itchy feeling had him glancing over his shoulder and he caught her staring fixedly at the keypad.
    “Don’t even try.